Darkfire
by Hoperise
Summary: Only slight AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand the new, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before...except Sue.
1. Before I Forget

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: Amazed as I am that there is another update before the apocalypse, this idea has been flitting around for too long.**_

_**Sarah: I know. Stupid dreams, stupid inspiration. Good story, freaky dream.**_

_**Jackie: Don't ask. So anyways, welcome to the start of an incredibly angsty and probably better reflective of our current writing style... fic.**_

_**Sarah: Wow. Dramatic.**_

_**Jackie: You, shut up. Readers, enjoy.**_

--

Chapter One

--

_I am a world before I am a man,  
I was a creature before I could stand.  
I will remember before I forget;  
BEFORE I FORGET THAT!!_

_-Slipknot, Before I Forget_

It was just the way he remembered it.

A man dressed in a ragged black turtleneck, loose-fitting dark pants that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light, looked about the hollowed out shell with despair in his vacant cerulean eyes.

Yes, just the way he remembered it. A mere husk of what it had once been.

Johnny took a shallow breath, moving slowly through the rubble and debris of what once had been the Baxter Building. The room was coated with years of accumulated dust, hanging in the air, choking him. Light streamed in through the gaping holes in the roof, which Johnny was amazed was still standing. As he gingerly stepped over and past jagged hunks of metal, masses of plastic warped by flame, charred pieces of wood and broken glass, he slowly moved to the far end of the room.

It was generally the least damaged part of the building, owing to its reinforced walls and strengthened surfaces, but the roof had mostly collapsed around it. Johnny had to move the rubble out of the way with agonizing slowness in order to get to the door behind it. Grunting with effort, he pushed a large chunk of cracked concrete out of the way and cleared off the lengths of broken wiring, only to discover one last obstacle in his way. A fallen girder had crashed to the ground, but one end of it refused to be parted with the roof. The result was a very large, very heavy steel beam leaning across the doorway and making passing through it impossible.

He let out a groan; chest already heaving and pain lancing down his side from the exertion. Nonetheless, he moved down to the end of the girder and set his feet on both sides, rough hands reaching down and grabbing both sides. He sucked in a deep breath and pulled with all his might.

It did not move.

Johnny blinked. Grabbing it more firmly, he set his shoulders and lifted, muscles straining, sweat running down his face, letting out a strained noise.

The girder budged maybe an inch.

Heart pounding in his chest, face set in a frown; Johnny gripped the cold steel, gritted blood-stained teeth and heaved with every ounce of his strength. Sweat poured down his skin, his muscles screamed at him, and he let out an agonized bellow from the pain. But slowly, slowly the beam was moving.

The man hauled it backwards, inch by shrieking inch, and finally with a crash that shook him to his very core, the girder fell to the ground.

Johnny collapsed backwards, heart racing a mile a minute, chest rising and falling abnormally. His eyes slid closed, but after a moment passed he shifted, rolled over, spat out a mouthful of blood and pushed himself to his feet.

Staggering slightly, the man made his way up to the door and wedged it open. He stepped into the musty room with one arm wrapped around his midsection, snapping the fingers of his other hand. With that, a small black fireball ignited in midair and cast ghostly gray light into corners of the room.

It was Reed's old lab.

Of course, after the man's death and shortly before the bombing of New York, it had been utterly ransacked. Every good or halfway decent invention had been stolen; everything else had been completely destroyed.

And yet, Johnny was still able to give a flicker of a smile as he walked through the center of the disaster zone. He remembered better days; the long repressed memories jumping to light eagerly at the chance. Over there was where Reed had once nearly worked himself to death building the machine that had briefly turned Ben back to normal. Over there was where Sue had had her invisibility tested and discovered her emotions were the trigger to her powers. Over there was where Ben had once sat, worried and confused, explaining to his concerned friends that he used to smoke.

In that corner, Frankie and Valeria used to sit in fervent whispers, plotting ways to pull their father away from his inventions.

In that doorway, Johnny used to stand and watch it all.

He swallowed heavily and brushed away the memories, moving to the opposite side of the room where a part of the wall stood, shadowed by an overhanging catwalk, completely innocent except to those who knew its secret.

Johnny extinguished the flame and by memory punched the twelve digit entry code into what appeared to be the panel of a simple security system. But suddenly, the panel slid back to reveal a hand-sized slot. Johnny pressed his hand to this and a laser ran over it twice, then chirped brightly. This slot also slid away, and a robotic arm held out a small machine which raised itself to eye level.

Johnny stared unblinking into this scanner, which also beeped before retreating into the wall. Finally, a small microphone slid out into the open. Johnny cleared his throat and said in the steadiest voice he could manage, "Johnny Storm."

The microphone fell back with a happy 'bree-deep!" And suddenly, the entire section of wall slid back to reveal a completely different room.

This... this was Reed's _private_ lab.

In here he had held his most dangerous, most experimental, and most important projects.

Then again, he had also used it to house his pet projects - fun things he toyed with in his spare time or when he was stumped for inspiration on another project.

Projects like these often dealt with abstract and undefinable subjects, like other dimensions, magic, universal forces, and time.

And it was the time project that Johnny was most interested in.

He turned on the lights, grateful that the man had indeed set up a separate power source for his secret room, and headed to the very hidden back.

It was here that he saw Cree, and of course the CRD.

--

More than eight years ago Reed had started tinkering with the concepts of a time machine. Not a traveling back and forth magic box, but an honest to goodness go-back-and-change-things time machine.

The Chrono Reversion Device (CRD) had started just as a vague concept, but after significant research he discovered an actual way to reverse time. However, after some thought he had realized that just in case anything terrible were to happen, the CRD would actually need to be used. So Reed invented a separate, user-friendly program that would guide one who was not technologically literate through the process, as well as give them any assistance needed in the 'new world.'

He put his own, Sue's, Ben's, and Johnny's DNA into the system and programmed the machine to self-destruct with the force of a fifteen megaton bomb if anyone the program did not approve tried to use it or the CRD, permanently destroying the anyone and anything trying to hijack the time traveling technology.

In order for everything to fit, however, he brought the rest of his team into his private lab and introduced them to Cree.

CREE. The Chrono Reversion Enhancement Element.

--

Johnny walked up to the machines and gently touched a finger to the freezing cold sapphire diamond-shaped apparent gemstone. But as his skin came into contact with the stone, it began to glow from within. The cool, emotionless voice of his sister came floating towards him, and he nearly choked up at hearing what he had not for years.

"Hello, Johnny Storm."

Forcing down a sob, he replied shakily, "Hello, Cree."

"I'm sorry, Johnny. To proceed, a DNA match is required." Sue's voice came again, causing his shoulders to shake with the emotion.

Slowly the arm wrapped around his middle reached out, drifting above Cree's surface before dripping his tainted black life blood onto the gem.

Cree flashed a brilliant blue, and suddenly his sister was standing before him.

Well, not quite his sister. A hologram of a dark-haired, gray-eyed Sue in blue pants and a comfortable white shirt smiled at him and spoke. "DNA match confirmed. Hey, Johnny! How are things?"

The vision of his long deceased sibling was too much. Seeing her smile at him, so simply, so sweetly, as if the past thirteen years had not happened, as if he… he'd never… Johnny fell to his knees, sobbing her name over and over. "Oh, Susie-" He attempted, before again dissolving into tears.

Cree's artificial intelligence detected the Storm's distress and the hologram also moved to her knees, saying in a comforting voice, "Hush, Johnny. Calm down. Whatever's wrong, we can fix it."

This seemed to comfort the man and his harsh cries began to weaken. Finally he wiped at his face and cleared his throat, in control again.

The hologram smiled and relaxed, then said in a lighter voice, "There, now. What brought you to me?"

Staring blankly into space, Johnny replied in a hollow, broken voice, "Cree, everyone's gone. He won. We lost. The world is his now, and I'm the only free one left." As if in horror, he repeated, "I am the only free man left on Earth."

Cree blanched, but silently urged him to continue.

"I failed, Cree... and the entire world is paying for it. There isn't a man, woman, or child who isn't under his control. He's enslaved all of humanity, save me, and slaughtered everyone who might think of helping me. I didn't have anything - anywhere to go, until I thought of you." Johnny said miserably, staring at the ground.

Cree gave him a comforting smile. "That's all over now. So, what is your plan of action?" The hologram asked, watching as he stood up and walked over to the table on which her components were held.

"I'm going to go back in time and change things so that this nightmare never happens again. This is my only option; the only option I can allow myself to take." Johnny gently picked up the glowing sapphire that was Cree's matrix and inset it into the silver collar-like object that was the Portable Control Device, let the restraints snap into place, and placed it around his neck. In a few moments, the sensors inside detected a user and sent out tiny microtubules that would bond the PCD to Johnny's skin and link into his spine, allowing him to control the entire device with a thought.

"I can't kill myself now, knowing that the rest of humanity is Doomed. I have to change things, to make the past right so the future isn't this wrong." He said finally, as Cree's system aligned itself so only he saw her.

He walked over to the control panel for the CRD and according to her instruction, set the date, time, coordinates, and everything to be the day after he himself had been infected –his altered genome and Cree's DNA recognition processors would not allow for any further back. Checking and double checking everything repeatedly, Johnny took a deep breath and cried, "Let's do it!"

That said, he entered the final code and with a great lurch, his surroundings were obscured by a series of blinding flashes of light.

Johnny was spiraling, spiral backwards through time. He felt a great weight pressing down on his shoulders that momentarily felt as though it were going to crush him, but finally relaxed. However, the next thing he knew, the pressure was inside his body. He could feel things changing, shifting, falling back.

Johnny felt healed fractures re-break and move back into their proper positions, newer scars torn open and replaced with new - rather, old – tissue, wounds healing, damage being repaired, poison receding. But at the same time, his oldest scars were tearing open afresh and only healing halfway. There was a burning sensation on his right inner elbow that had nothing to do with flame.

It would have been an extremely painful process, had it not taken place in the span of several milliseconds.

All of a sudden, he was standing in his old room. It smelled fresh and clean, without a hint of dust or ash. The rubble was gone, ruins (hopefully) never to be seen again. The man, now physically young again, allowed his muscles to fully relax for the first time in years. Johnny would have jumped or shouted in excitement, but he was all of a sudden completely drained.

Exhausted, he took a few tottering steps forwards and collapsed on the bed.

His bed. In a room in a building that was completely whole. This was his last conscious though before he fell deep into the grasp of the black.

Johnny awoke several hours later the way he always did. His eyes snapped open and stared directly forwards. He took a moment to gauge his surroundings and discovered that he was in a large bedroom with a great window that overlooked the New York skyline. It took him a moment to realize that this was the undamaged New York, and with that, everything came rushing back.

The plan. The journey. The collapse.

He was back.

Something akin to a smile flitted about his lips for a moment, but Johnny had not truly smiled for years. He allowed himself the indulgence of a self-satisfied nod, then, nearly trembling with anticipation, walked over to the door and pulled it open.

It was just the way he remembered it. The comfortable hallways, hardwood floors, plain wallpaper, everything. It was all there, with nothing out of place.

But what about the occupants? Johnny looked up and down the way, but he could see no one. Fearing the worst, he padded silently down the hall in his bare feet (his outer clothing, despite their shabby appearances, had been recently acquired and with the reversion had been lost to time) and into the main room.

And there she was.

Talking to another in a low voice, she looked every bit as perfect as she had all those years ago. It was as if he had stepped into a photo album of his beloved sister in her former glory. Sensing his presence, Sue Richards turned and gave him a radiant smile.

"Hey, Johnny! It's about time you got up!"

Johnny's mouth opened and his throat worked, but he could make no sound.

Next to her, Ben Grimm lifted his great orange head and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "What kept you up so late, Matchstick - Karaoke Night again?"

Again, he tried to say something, but there were no words.

An extremely rare occasion, Reed Richards stepped into the room from his lab. He looked as though he were about to address Sue, but turned to the room's other occupants first. "Morning Ben, Johnny. Sleep well?"

This was the last straw. He nodded his head wordlessly in response, then turned and left the room, feet leading him to the bathroom where he locked the door behind himself. Johnny slid down to the floor, pressed his back against the side of the tub and covered his face in his hands, weeping silent tears of joy.

He had done it.

--

_**Sarah: The dreaded bold italics! Yes, this is the end of the first chapter.**_

_**Jackie: So what do y'all think of it so far? Good? Bad? Confusing? Reviews are the lifeblood of any writer!**_

_**Sarah: Dramatic once again.**_

_**Jackie: Don't make me put you in the closet again!**_

_**Sarah: -whimpers-**_

_**Jackie: As I was saying, please review. Next chapter should be up fairly soon-**_

_**Sarah: Because this fic is all I really work on at school! Angst equals heart!**_


	2. Dead Man

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Sarah: ONG We actually updated when we said we would!**_

_**Jackie: Shock and awe!**_

_**Sarah: No time for talk- read on!**_

--

Chapter Two

--

_So carry me,  
I'm just a dead man  
Lying on the carpet  
Can't find a heartbeat  
Make me breathe,  
I want to be a new man  
Tired of the old one  
Out with the old plan_

_-Jars of Clay, Dead Man (Carry Me)_

Time passed. After a while Johnny got to his feet and took in a deep breath, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He turned and took a look at himself in the mirror and sure enough, he was back to his old self, how he had been at twenty six. The man was still in slight awe of what he had done, peering at his reflection with reddened eyes, when he spotted something behind him.

A shower.

An honest-to-goodness shower.

The last time he had had a shower it had been raining.

Johnny looked up and whispered, "Thank you!" before stripping with lightning speed. He paused a moment, spotting Cree reflecting silver-blue light against the wall. Her control still held tightly to his neck. "Cree, can the PCD get wet, or will I have to take it off and on whenever I shower?" He asked in a quiet voice.

'_No, my systems are waterproof to several thousand pounds of aquatic pressure. The PCD was designed to resist the extremes, including that of your fire powers.'_ Her voice, in 'neutral mode,' echoed in his mind.

'Yeah, yeah. I've heard the pitch before.' Johnny thought back before getting in the shower and turning the water on full blast.

Shortly after Johnny exited the bathroom and slunk back to his bedroom with a towel around his waist, dressed, temporarily hid the actual CRD under a loosened floorboard (it had not been loose before he moved in), and headed back out into the main part of the house with a calm expression on his youthful face.

His eyes quickly finding Sue again, sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of soup, Johnny brightened. He wanted to approach her, to say something, but his initial reaction must have been so strange to her. Well, maybe it would be better just to sit and be with his sister for now. Johnny hadn't been able to do that for so long…

Shaking this off, the blond walked into the kitchen. Reflexively he was taking in every detail of his surroundings. Usually it was done to make sure nothing was going to jump out and attack him, but now it was for pure enjoyment. Everything was there. Everything was the same. It was just so amazing.

Johnny's stomach, irritated, informed him that though his other needs had been attended to, he still hadn't eaten anything for at least a week. Seeing that it was apparently lunch hour, he opened the fridge and looked inside.

And was nearly floored.

Food. It was everywhere. Johnny closed his eyes, then opened them again as if to reassure himself that it was still there. He stood there with the door open, simply staring at the sheer volume of food they had.

He must have actually zoned out, as after a few moments he heard Ben's rumbling voice. "Earth to Tinkerbell…"

The blond blinked and shook his head, then quickly reached in and grabbed the first thing he saw- a can of soda. "Ah, sorry Ben." Johnny quipped absently, moving out of the way.

Sue, who had been standing up to put her empty dish away, promptly dropped it and let out a shriek. Ben's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Both were staring at him in absolute shock.

Johnny gave the pair a look. "What? What'd I say?"

He slowly stuttered, "Y-Y-You called me Ben!"

"So? That is your name, isn't it?"

The orange man nodded in reply, but was not finished. "You never call me Ben. It's always Pebbles, Blockhead, Rocky, Sunshine… some stupid nickname."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, subconsciously drawing in all warmth from the hand holding his drink in order not to have it heat up and explode while he held it. "Do you _want_ me to call you a stupid nickname?" He asked, popping the top and taking a long drink.

"Well, no, but… It's just not like you." Ben replied.

The younger man snorted lightly. 'Not like the me you know…' He thought, leaning against the cabinet.

Sue walked over to him and concernedly moved to place her hand on his forehead. "Johnny, are you sure you're feeling alright-?" She started, but he dodged the contact.

"Yeah, Sue, I'm fine. You don't need to make a federal case out of this." Johnny said, frowning slightly. When the elevator chime suddenly rang out, he was all too ready to escape that potentially dangerous scene. "I'll get it." He declared, setting down the can and walking to the main entryway.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a beautiful young brunette wearing a long, cream-coloured jacket and a short black miniskirt. Her bright green eyes sparkled when she caught his steely blue ones, and she quickly moved towards him and threw her arms around his shoulders. "Johnny!" She cried in joy.

"Do I know you?" He asked, awkwardly returning the hug. Staring calmly into her eyes, he wracked his brain for a memory of her.

Fortunately, she giggled at this statement. "Oh, Johnnykins, you're so funny."

Ah. That annoying nickname was very familiar. This was Jessica Evans, a woman he had been married to –or rather, would marry- for seven months… before he found out that she'd been cheating on him since five months before the wedding. The whore had been sleeping around on him for nearly a year before he finally found out.

Recalling this, Johnny stiffened and gave a false laugh. "I try. Jessica, we… we have to talk."

"We can talk at the restaurant. Come on, there's car waiting for us downstairs." She said, releasing him, but firmly grabbing his wrist and beginning to tug him towards the door.

"Yeah, I don't think so." He said abruptly, removing his hand from her grip and taking a step back.

Jessica frowned, her brow wrinkling slightly. "We can play later, Johnnykins. We have a reservation; we gotta go."

Johnny folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"What are you talking about?" She said, stopping and turning to look at him. Frowning further, the young woman eyed him sharply; her previous bubbly excitement gone without a trace.

He placed his hands out to his sides helplessly. "It's over, Jessica. I'm done with you."

Gobsmacked, her jaw dropped open. "Wh-What are you talking about? Johnny, I love you!" She said desperately, moving towards him until her body was nearly pressing up against his. "I _love_ you!" She repeated.

Johnny barked out a bitter laugh. "You love me? I'd hate to see you mad at me. How many other guys have you been with since we got together? Five? Ten? Fifteen?" He shook his head in disgust. "I don't believe you. Every day you lie to my face, and you expect me to keep coming back for more? Jessica, you don't love me. You love my fame; you love my money. You love D- the Human Torch, but you don't love me. I'm just a fad to you."

Caught in the act, her face twisted in anger. "Fine then! You win, I'll go!" She stormed over to the elevator and jabbed the button, and as the doors slid open again she stopped and turned back to him. "Oh, and you can have your ring back!" Jessica yanked it off her finger and hurled it at Johnny before entering the elevator and closing the doors.

The small golden ring bounced off his shoulder and landed on the ground with a tiny clink.

He stood there emotionlessly, back straight, eyes narrowed. "Whore." He muttered under his breath, then reached over and picked up the ring. Studying it carefully, he couldn't believe he had wasted a year with her, told her his secrets. It was to be expected that she would go straight to the media with the news, so he might as well prepare for the incoming wave of paparazzi.

Meanwhile, he still had to deal with this ring. Johnny closed his fist around it, felt the hard edge of the diamond digging into his skin. A moment later, only a twisted blob of metal remained.

"Johnny, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" Sue asked, rushing to his side with that familiar worried expression back on her face. Little did he know, but the reason she was so worried was because of the last thing he had said to Jessica. Had her words from years back stuck in his mind so much that he would repeat them to his ex-girlfriend- no, ex-fiancée?

Her brother, frustrated, ran a hand through his short hair and said in a shockingly calm voice, "Why do you care?"

Sue's worry turning to slight confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I mean, why now of all times? You never seemed to care before." At that moment, he seemed tired, as if he had gone a very long time without being able to rest. The usual mischievous twinkle in his eye had faded away and been replaced with a dark shadow; where it came from, she almost didn't want to know.

The Invisible Woman let out a distressed sigh and tried to brush this off. "Johnny, you know that's not true. I'm your sister. I want to help you, and I always have."

"Then why didn't you start earlier? Why didn't you start when I was eight years old?" He replied in a voice like the edge of a knife.

As his words sunk in, Sue froze. A horrified expression grew on her face, and so lost was she in the memories that this brought up she did not even notice when Johnny stormed out of the room. It took Ben waving his great hand in front of her eyes and calling her for her to snap back to reality.

"Sue? I asked if you were okay." He rumbled, concerned.

Numbly, she nodded; her mind racing as she thought of the implications of his words. She had to find him, and quickly.

"What happened when he was eight?" Ben asked.

Sue ignored the question and rounded on him. "Which way did Johnny go?" She asked rushedly.

Frowning, Ben pointed off towards the stairwell and replied, "That way. I think he was heading to the roof."

Standing there for a moment, Sue let this sink in before she suddenly turned and bolted for the stairs. She took them two at a time and hurled open the door at the top. Stepping out onto the roof, she looked around and saw no one; searched the skies and saw no one; ran to the railing and looked down… there was no one.

Johnny was gone.

Ben approached her slowly. All the commotion had drawn out Reed from his lab as well, and the pair wore identical frowns. Slowly, quietly, her friend asked, "Suzie, what happened when Johnny was eight?"

--

The waters were choppy and the sky was a dismal gray. A strong wind was pushing against him, but Johnny paid none of these factors any mind. The Atlantic was always like this in late winter. When spring came around… well, it would be the same, but at least then he could blame it on bad weather.

Anyways.

Johnny was flying just below the cloud bank, occasionally rising above it when he spotted a small island or boat; anyone who might see and recognize him. He was all but lost in thought, dwelling heavily on the events of the day.

He hadn't been home more than a few hours and already he had screwed everything up.

Initially the man had been so excited he had nearly gone into shock when he first saw them, but after he thought he had gotten over that, things went downhill. Concerned about him, Sue had reached out to feel his forehead for a fever (how did she think she would be able to tell? Ah well… old habits, he supposed) and Johnny had lurched away. He knew that just that, the slightest touch from his sister, would cause him to lose it.

And afterwards, when she had reacted in the way expected when comforting someone who has had to end a relationship, he snapped at her. He was reacting overly emotionally to the woman that Sue had become in his time, not who she really was. His misplaced anger and a few choice statements could have just ruined everything.

Bitterly, Johnny muttered to himself that he might as well not return after he accomplished his mission. Unfortunately, he knew all too well that that was impossible. He had to steal the formula at all costs. It was not his life riding on it – there was currently another member of the Fantastic Four whose body held the dormant poison.

He just wanted to finish the plan quickly – to get the cure, heal his friends, and end his life.

What was wrong with that?

Johnny let out a long sigh and pushed these thoughts from his mind as he spotted a small fishing boat on the horizon, and flew back up above the clouds. The clock was running, and he still had a long way to go.

Latveria was, as always, a very long ways away.

--

_**Sarah: Dun dun dun! The not so mysterious villain revealed!**_

_**Jackie: So, what do you guys think? How do you like it so far? Are you confused yet? Who do you think has the poison?**_

_**Sarah: Thanks everyone for reviewing so far! Reviews are author chow!**_

_**Jackie: Authoress. Authoresses.**_

_**Sarah: That too! n.n**_

_**Jackie: T.T**_


	3. I Need Some Sleep

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: A rather late Happy Christmas, readers. Here's the situation: We pretty much had the chapter mostly finished by Sunday of last week when two horrifying, horrifying things happened. One: We put ourselves in a terrible position that forced a lot of the chapter to be negated. Two: Sarah went out and played in the snow and came in with a virus. She's currently lost the little sense she did have and has been put under strict orders of bed rest, OJ, and toast. What this means is that lucky me got to finish re-writing the last of the chapter on my own. Dearest apologies from me, but here is our finished work. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... Darkfire.**_

--

Chapter Three

--

_I need some sleep  
It can't go on like this  
I tried counting sheep  
But there's one I always miss  
Everyone says I'm getting down too low  
Everyone says you just gotta let it go_

_-Eels, I Need Some Sleep_

Trembling, Sue shepherded her husband and best friend inside. She led them to the living room and had them seated, but as soon as they sat down she sprang up again and began to pace.

It was a rare occasion that Sue was reduced to wasting energy by uselessly walking back and forth, but it was certainly more satisfying then sitting still. As she walked she began to babble to the pair, at first making no sense but gradually beginning to level out. A furiously worried, pained expression had come over her face and she wrung her hands relentlessly, as if expecting at any moment to hear some horrific news.

"I should have expected this. I know it's been a while, but with all that's going on… maybe the stress, maybe the breakup, or that thing with the Surfer… maybe it was something I said? Was his lifestyle just catching up with him? I just don't know…"

Reed, who had been briefed on the situation on the way back, leaned forwards and folded his hands, then said soothingly, "Just try to calm down, Sue. Take one thing at a time. What exactly happened when Johnny was eight?"

The blonde woman took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay."

"Well, as you know, when Johnny was eight, our Mom died. A drunk driver slammed into the car head on; no one could have predicted it. Johnny and I were in the car at the time, and when it hit... I was twelve at the time; still, all I remember of the accident is a huge wall of red and a bright flash of light… then pain." Her voice shook slightly, but she continued on.

"An ambulance took us all to the hospital. Johnny was a little scraped up, but he was out in less then a day. I was in there for several weeks. Mom died in only a couple of days. There was nothing they could do for her." Sue paused for a moment, and then continued on remorsefully.

"I honestly don't know what started him down the path. Maybe it was because we both got hurt and he didn't. Maybe he felt like it was his fault. Maybe he wanted to be with Mom. I don't know what it was, but for whatever reason, shortly after I got out… Johnny cut his wrists."

Ben took in a sharp breath. "You mean…"

She nodded grimly, a dark shadow passing in front of her eyes. "He tried to kill himself."

"Luckily, Dad found him before... before he lost too much blood and we got him to a hospital in time. He went to counseling for a while, but it didn't work very well and it was really expensive, and with all our medical bills… We had to take him out. Johnny seemed back to normal, so Dad and I thought it was all over."

"We were wrong."

"Four years later, Dad was arrested for a crime he didn't commit and was sent to prison. He died in jail, and not long afterwards I found Johnny in his room, hanging in his closet with one of Dad's old belts around his neck."

Reed paled at this, but remained silent. Beside him, Ben had gone stock-still. He looked almost a statue, sitting there motionless and trying to take in the story of the young man's hidden life.

Meanwhile, Sue began to pace again; the pained expression back. "What could I do? We could barely afford living on our own as it was; counseling bills would have been even more horrible. Besides that, I couldn't report what happened or the courts would have split us up - sent us to separate homes. And then I wouldn't be able to-to watch him." She bit her lip.

"I didn't tell anyone, but we talked things out for a few weeks. He seemed to get better, and I guess he actually might have been… but then again, he might just have been good at hiding it. Anyways, nothing really happened for a few years. Johnny looked happy again. He smiled and laughed; he played sports and pulled pranks… He even managed to keep his grades high enough to get accepted into NASA's training program. Life seemed to go on, and after a while I started to forget.

"But everything changed after Johnny got kicked out of NASA for one prank too many. He got into really extreme sports, started going to all kinds of parties and staying out until all hours. I was just glad that he was out with other people; I didn't know and I didn't want to know what he was doing.

"Anyways, at one of the parties he met Craig, one of his old snow boarding buddies. They decided to head up to the mountains again, but there was an accident... and Craig didn't make it. This time I knew it was coming, but I figured that so long as he was with people, he would be fine."

Sue paused and swallowed, then continued on. "I got a call from the hospital a couple of days later. Johnny's 'friends' brought him in after he nearly died of a drug overdose. They said it was all just a stupid mistake - that they had been drunk and Johnny accidentally took too many pain pills, but I knew better.

"By that time I had started working for Victor, and I was actually so worried that I told him about it… most of it anyways. After he heard the story and about Johnny's history in NASA, he was both saddened and intrigued. He offered to give him a job as an outlet, and of course Johnny took it. And... here we are today."

Pausing to collect her thoughts, Sue said softly, "I thought that things were different, you know, because of the Fantastic Four? But it looks like things are the same as ever." She looked down for a moment, then looked up again with confidence in her eyes. "We have to find him."

The implied 'or else' hung in the air like a suffocating blanket as the Fantastic Four sprang into action. For seven days they searched the city from top to bottom; calling up his old friends, dropping in on every bar and club he frequented and many he didn't, frantically looking through every nook and cranny of New York City for their missing teammate.

The media, once they got wind of his disappearance, was also caught up in 'Torch Fever.' This combined with the 'colourful' interviews from Ms. Evans resulted in many wild stories of Johnny's eloping to foreign countries with lusty exotic women. Such articles were thrown out in disgust by an angry Sue; still upset from not being able to find any word of her brother.

On the night of the seventh day, the trio went off to bed with the declaration from Reed that the next day they would begin searching the areas outside of New York.

And it was on this night that finally, finally, Johnny returned.

--

Johnny hit the ground and rolled across the rooftop, coming to a halt on his front. He opened his mouth to groan, but was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. The man doubled over, clutching his chest and coughing until blood dribbled down his chin. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the door. Johnny stood at the top of the stairs and nearly whimpered. "You gotta be kidding me." He managed, coughing slightly.

Bravely, stupidly, he leaned against the wall and clutched the railing like a lifeline, then began making his way down. The blond actually managed to pathetically limp down several steps before his foot slipped and his strength gave out. Johnny grabbed in vain at the railing, but before he could do anything he was crashing down the stairs. He slammed his head against a step, his shoulder on the wall, and his side on the sharp edge of a stair. For all he knew, he might have hit several more times. but he could not recall.

All Johnny knew was the sudden screaming, stabbing pain as though a white-rod iron spear had suddenly been thrust deep into his side. Coloured dots exploded in front of his vision and his jaw slackened. Instinctively he tried to draw in a breath, but this pushed his agony to new heights. But when he finally did land -more like collapse- in a heap at the base of the stairs he forced himself to suck in a breath. This drove him into a violent frenzy. The man screwed up his eyes, chest heaving as he convulsed with coughs.

Time passed and eventually the bout lessened, but through hazy blue eyes he could tell the ground beneath him had been coated thickly with his crimson blood. Johnny, weak, pressed his fiercely shaking hands to the cold linoleum and pushed, trying to raise himself back up, but this was where his body betrayed him. The few inches he lifted he fell, and suddenly the Torch was on the ground again.

Sudden pressure and pain nearly sent Johnny reeling back into a fit. He attempted to avoid it by staying very still and holding his breath, but this was no help. At last Johnny lay there pitifully, gasping for a wisp of air his lungs would not violently reject.

And then he heard the scream.

Pounding footsteps reached his ears and a blonde head swam into view.

"JOHNNY!!" Sue shrieked, then looked over her shoulder to someone Johnny could not see. "Call an ambulance!!"

She turned back to him with shimmering eyes and asked gently, earnestly, "Johnny, are you alright?"

He tried to suppress a chuckle at this and wound up stifling a cough. "Jus' dandy, sis." He managed eventually.

Sue looked as though she were about to reprimand herself for the silly question, but continued on nonetheless. "What happened, Johnny? Where were you?"

His vision was already darkening; his sister slipping away. But before the continuous agony and lack of oxygen sent him spiraling into unconsciousness, Johnny breathed, "Latveria."

--

Before he even opened his eyes, Johnny knew that he was in the hospital due to several factors and far too much experience. Firstly, the air smelled remarkably clean, but to one paying attention it was thick with the smell of disinfectants. Secondly, there was an incredibly bright light filtering through his eyelids that seemed to blind his brain. Thirdly, beneath him were the scratchy sheets that seemingly every hospital on the planet used. Finally he could hear the soft noises, dripping, beeping, humming, of various monitors he knew were hooked to him.

So when he finally did open his eyes, it was of no surprise to him that he was staring directly into the fluorescent bulb. The slight irritation that flared up at this was immediately smothered by a wave of all-consuming fear. A hospital. He was in a _hospital._ Despite his attempts to calm himself, Johnny's heart began to pound within his chest and his breathing quickened. He swallowed hard, pushing the memories of agony and anguish from the front of his mind as he heard the steady rhythm of his heart monitor quicken to an almost dangerous pace. Calm down, he told himself harshly, before you set off an alarm.

At this Johnny let out a small noise of irritation and turned his head to the side, only to find himself face-to-face with his sister, who was leaning over the side of his bed. He jerked back slightly, surprised, then realized that her eyes were closed and locks of blonde hair were falling in her face; she was sleeping.

The room appeared secure, with only one door leading in and out. There were large windows on either side of the door, but they appeared thick enough and enough people were passing by that there was little chance of anything shady to happen unnoticed. Reed and Ben were slumped in chairs on the opposite side of the room, the gentle rise and fall of their chests revealing their slumbering state. Apparently, Johnny surmised, it was just a good time for a nap.

The man relaxed and sighed fondly, hesitantly checking to see how much slack he had on the IV in his right hand before reaching over and tucking the hair behind her ear. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his, and after going so very long without being able to see or touch her, Johnny did not want to break the contact. For a minute or two he gently stroked her cheek, whispering her name in order to pull her back into the land of the waking.

Eventually she stirred, let out a soft moan, and opened her eyes. Blue stared into blue, and a relieved smile grew and lit up her face like the morning sun. "Johnny!" She said excitedly, sitting up.

"Who were you expecting?" He replied in a slightly raspy voice, without a trace of the disappointment he felt from the sudden lack of touch.

She seemed to ignore this comment, even though her face brightened even further at it. "Reed, Ben, get up! Johnny's awake!" She said over her shoulder, and heavy footsteps brought the other two running.

"What's the big deal?" He said, clearing his throat awkwardly. Johnny attempted to sit up on his elbows, but halted suddenly as a spasm of pain wracked his entire body, originating from somewhere within his chest. For the record he took it rather well; the only outward sign he gave of the agony he was experiencing was a slight widening of his eyelids. Pain was something he could take. It was the... accompanying things that really messed him up. Slowly he lowered himself back to the bed, to the amusement of the others in the hospital room.

"Not so fast, hotshot. You've been through a lot in the past few days, probably more then we know." Sue gave him a wry smile.

'You have no idea how right you are.' He thought with an inward grimace. "What happened?" Johnny asked, irritation leaking into his voice.

The smile quickly faded. Sue replied in a pained voice, "Johnny... I-I told them."

He looked up, deadpan, and said in a steely voice, "You want to run that by me again?"

She almost flinched. "I told them everything, starting when you were eight. I'm sorry- I just had to. Just in case... well, just in case anything happened."

Johnny let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair, as if to calm himself. "Well, that certainly complicates things..." He murmured softly. In his timeline, the team hadn't found until... The blond shook it off, growling, "Nevermind. Whatever. It doesn't matter."

Surprised that he had dealt with it so well, Sue blinked before taking advantage of his sudden silence to go on. "We looked all over for you, and we were actually going to start looking out of the city today, but you fixed that problem for us." Pause. "So... are you going to explain what exactly you were doing in Latveria?" She asked nervously.

"Nope." Johnny said defiantly, causing the others to exchange worried glances. Before anyone could protest or question why, he went on, "I'm hoping it'll give you more of a reason to get me outta here. I don't like hospitals, and I'm not gonna spill until we're back at the Baxter Building." For a moment, something mischievous shone in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came.

Sue picked up on this and was slightly relieved by a sign, any sign, that he was his normal self... but she was still confused by his refusal to talk. Somehow she didn't believe that it was just to force them to bust him out early. Oh well, maybe she was just being paranoid. She shook it off and said in a stern voice, "Alright then. You win for now, Johnny... but this isn't over."

The shadow of a smile flickered on his face. "I'm not arguing that." He muttered, so quietly she almost missed it.

Almost.

--

_**Jackie: So how was that? Several different bombs dropped at once. Well, now you guys know why this is AU, please no freak-out there. But anyways, what was Johnny doing in Latveria? Even though Sue knows Johnny doesn't like hospitals, his private thoughts reveal more then just that. What happened there? What happened in those memories? Gasp! Angst!**_

_**Sarah: -mumbles incoherantly-**_

_**Jackie: They said STRICT BED REST! Back to your shanty! -points-**_

_**Sarah: Murrr... x.X**_

_**Jackie: Read and review! -flinches-**_


	4. Move Along

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Sarah: Yay! I'm not dead!**_

_**Jackie: -mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'darnit'-**_

_**Sarah: Ignoring you! Anyways, thanks everyone for their good wishes and luffly reviews. Enjoy the chappie!**_

--

Chapter Four

--

_When all you got to keep is strong,  
Move along, move along like I know you do.  
And even when your hope is gone,  
Move along, move along - just to make it through!_

_-All-American Rejects, Move Along_

The days passed more slowly than any of them would have liked. Johnny's doctor, a lean, wheezing old man, informed them that he had broken three ribs, fractured two, and bruised one. He'd also nearly fractured his left ankle, but fortunately he only had a severe sprain ("Because that's so much better." Johnny had sniped when informed of this).

He spent three days recovering from the surgery he had undergone, as when he fell down the stairs his broken ribs were pushed into his lung and punctured it in "_only_ one place, lucky boy." ("Thanking my stars over here, doc.") Johnny was held for one more day for observation before being grudgingly released into Sue's care, under strict orders for bed rest and certainly no reckless activities ("Who, me? Reckless?") for at least a few weeks.

Sue took these orders very seriously and once they got home immediately made the couch into a bed for Johnny, made sure that he was comfortable, and steeled him for questioning.

When his teammates were gathered around uncomfortably closely, Johnny sighed and began. "Alright. So, I got a buddy named Eli. He's into extreme snowboarding and does lots of tours and stuff around Europe." He said measuredly, choosing his words, including slang, with care. The blond had had plenty of time to think of a cover story, but out of respect to his friends he wanted to keep it as close to the truth as possible. "Eli was working the slopes near the southern Hungary-Romania border and heard some people talking. They didn't say too much, but they said enough that he sent me word, friend-to-friend."

"He told me that according to them, Doom's planning something. Something big, big enough that he's willing to wait as long as it takes and try as many times it needs in order to get it done." Johnny paused. He knew that he had their full attention and that anything he said would be the basis of all action over the next few days, possibly weeks. He continued, "I knew that if I told you guys, you'd want to mount a full-on operation to get to the bottom of this, and since everything we _think_ about doing is national media, I decided to go it alone. I'd been waiting for the right time to go, and I just decided last week that then was as good a time as any."

Anticipating the question, he took a deep breath. "I didn't find out as much as I'd like. Doom's been doing a lot of trading with companies in North Korea, Russia, and Cuba. He's also been kidnapping top scientists in the fields of chemistry, biology, and genetic engineering from every major country in the world. And this isn't something that was cooked up overnight; it's been going on for years."

"Why haven't we heard about this before?" Reed asked with a frown; Johnny could almost see the gears turning in his head.

Luckily, he knew the answer to this all too well. "Because, this is one of Doom's personal pet projects. Been keeping it secret for a long time; the two guys Eli overheard were probably killed for letting valuable information slip." Sue's face took on a horrified expression and Johnny mentally cursed himself. He couldn't mention death so casually while around her; at least not yet. "All week I snuck around Doom's complexes trying to find out anything I could, but before I could get anything really good, I got caught." The blond allowed his right hand to pat his heavily bandaged chest and snickered. "I tell you, the guy sure can pack a punch he's mad."

Sue squeaked. "You mean-" She gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Yup. Dearest Doomsie gave me a little souvenir- a chest full of broken ribs and a foot to match." He said in a falsely sweet voice, rolling his eyes. In reality, he was barely keeping his anger contained. Johnny was fairly certain that no one in the history of the universe hated anyone else as much as he hated Doom.

In a flash of movement, his sister launched herself forwards into his arms, pounding her fist down onto his shoulder repeatedly, sobbing something incomprehensible.

"Sue- ouch, that hurts!" He exclaimed, awkwardly grabbing her wrists and doing his best to immobilize her.

"You stupid- you idiot!" She exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes. "You could have d-died over there, and we wouldn't even have known!"

Johnny blinked. That was rather unexpected. "Uhh... I'm sorry?"

She was not finished. Large, pearly tears spilled over and slid down her face as she sobbed, "You r-risked your neck just on a whim- Johnny that was t-totally irresponsible! We searched everywhere, day and night, not even kn-knowing if you were alive or d-dead!"

He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Susie, but it's okay now! I'm here!" With his thumb he brushed away one of her tears and tried to look reassuring. Johnny was rather out of practice trying to comfort others and hoped he was doing alright.

Suddenly she pulled away, wiping at her face embarrassedly. "I'm fine. I'm okay." Sue sniffed loudly and turned her back to him. "You want some pancakes? I'm gonna make you some pancakes." She disappeared off into the kitchen, nevermind the fact that it was approaching three in the afternoon.

The men in the room looked at each other exasperatedly. Ben disappeared after mumbling something about going to see Alicia and Reed retreated to his lab, leaving Johnny pretty much alone in the building with a temperamental Sue.

After a while she came back with the promised baked goods and turned the TV on to some show he didn't care about, affectionately saying she knew how much he loved these and leaving the bewildered man with a pat to his blond head.

Johnny ate slowly, recalling with a snort what a terrible cook Sue was. His thoughts lingered on her, however, and the man wondered for a moment if his sister had always been this moody. Was it simply 'that time of the month,' or was she...

He counted the months in his head, and suddenly his mouth opened in a wide 'ahh' of understanding.

The man simply could not _wait_ until the next time she went invisible.

Finished the awful pancakes and utterly couch-bound -at least, for now- Johnny turned his attention to the TV and attempted to find out what show had been put on. And after a legion of commercials went by, he found out.

It was a dirt bike race.

He slammed his palm into his forehead and groaned aloud. True, he had been into this type of thing... about fifteen years ago! It was like taking himself at the age he was feigning and forcing him to play hopscotch or some such nonsense. And yet, if he changed the channel, he would be even more suspect then he already was.

Johnny sighed and laid back, draping his arm over his face and falling back on an old habit he had developed as a boy in order to pass the time without having to dwell on anything potentially painful. Counting.

Breathing in and out slowly, he started to count each passing second while at the same time growing remarkably aware of his surroundings. He lay there, unmoving, as the rest of the Fantastic Four went about their normal routine.

Time passed. A lot of time passed. 28,799, 28,800, 28,801 seconds passed. The effects of his pain pills wore off rather quickly, causing a dull, constant throb every time his heart beat. But Johnny had undergone far worse many times over the years, and it was of little concern to him.

Meanwhile, the sky outside had darkened and the sun set, casting most of his face into moody darkness. Sue, apparently assuming that he was dozing, was tiptoeing about. The door to the stairwell had recently been opened and shut, and since the footsteps were weighty and the only one who ever used the stairs was Ben, Johnny knew that he was back.

28,863 seconds passed and the hulking orange man walked into the living room. His footsteps paused, then more softly, he stepped around Johnny's couch and took a seat in his chair. A great sigh. A not-so-gentle scraping sound as Ben picked up the remote and changed the channel from Xtreme Sports to the local news network.

Ah. That was something he could watch. In fact, watching the news could help to properly ground him in the current time line. Figuring he should not waste this oppourtunity, he shifted quietly on the couch to face the TV and watch the world pass by. Stories of famous murders and trials, schemes and scandals slowly pulled him back to the mindset of the current year. Johnny thought he was almost catching up and when a story came on about Pakistan again postponing their general election came on, he decided he knew enough to comment.

However, he merely proved his ignorance.

Johnny snorted at the news anchor as they elaborated and said lightly, "Well, that's MEFA for you."

Ben started, having apparently not noticed he was awake. But at these words, he furrowed his great brow. "Me-wha? What're you on about, Matchstick?"

The couch-ridden man carefully masked an eyetwitch. Crap. Apparently the Middle Eastern Federation of Allies had not been formed yet. Well, that was probably a good thing. The Arabian version of the USSR had done just as poorly as its predecessor. "Nevermind. Bein' stupid." Johnny waved this off.

As the rest of the actual news stories passed, they watched in silence broken only by the occasional laugh or comment.

And after a brief section on sports -Johnny's eyes had glazed over and he counted his way through it- the entertainment stories came on. This was a great source of amusement to him. It was very entertaining to learn that Michelle Jackson had not yet had her sex change, nor Paris whoever-she-was been convicted for the murder of that Britney girl.

But what was the most amusing was the updated story on his eloping to South America with Jennifer Lopez. He let out a loud bark of laughter.

Again, Ben started. Apparently he had not been expecting that, either.

"South America, huh? Would've at least been warmer. Better company, too." He laughed harshly again, but if you looked closely, when Johnny laughed it was merely the sound. There was no sign of his amusement written on his face, no familiar upward curve of the lips. Perhaps this was what had startled his orange friend.

Well, amusement aside, the only important thing that Johnny learned from all of this was that it was February second. He was a week and a half away from the Day; there was only a little while longer to hold on before he could...

Blink. Ben was saying something.

"Sorry, what was that?" He asked, looking over at the other man.

"I said, I can't believe yer takin' this so well." Ben rumbled, giving Johnny that strange look that told him he'd done something out of character.

"Well, the way I see it, they're just trying to sell a story to people who have nothing better to do with their lives but follow these things. It'll be a big scandal for about a week, then people will figure out the truth, get bored, and move on to the next scandal." His blue eyes suddenly twinkled. "Besides, while I was trying to be sneaky in Latveria, I definitely would rather he think that I was off with J-Lo in Rio de Janeiro."

Ben chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you gotta point."

Johnny shook his head in slight disbelief. "Sooner or later, you people will figure out that I always do."

Shortly after, Ben and Sue turned in for the night, leaving Johnny in his couch-bed and Reed in his… well, lab (where he was presumably trying to figure out what Doom was up to). Johnny waited until he could hear their breathing even out until he set to work.

Closing his eyes, he withdrew all of his own heat energy into his core and marked where he felt his own heat signature emanate from- the couch in the living room. He could 'feel' the large mass of well-contained heat that was Ben, seeming to float horizontally in the air as he lay in his bed asleep. Johnny marked his friend's place, and moved on.

Further away a smaller, yet brighter heat signature, Sue, was entirely still on the low bed she shared with Reed. He marked his sister's place, and moved on.

Still further away, Reed's heat signature was the most noticeable of the Fantastic Four (now that Johnny had withdrawn himself) as he was pacing back and forth erratically in his lab. Johnny marked his brother-in-law's place, and moved beyond.

He reached out further with his senses and felt for the small, barely noticeable heat signals given off by the running appliances as electricity coursed through their wires at a steady pace. The larger ones like the air conditioning and elevators, because they drew more power, shone like fiery beacons in a dark night. But Johnny was looking for flickering embers, not roaring flames.

He searched until he found and mentally marked each and every one of the identical signatures, at least one in every room in their part of the building.

And then, Johnny called to them.

As a pyrokinetic, Johnny had the ability to create and control flame. Creating it was a fairly simple task, but it had taken him years of training to master control. However, this training had paid off in the end, and now the blond put it to good use.

He called to the heat, urging it to increase in temperature slowly, very slightly, until in one specific place in each of them the heat would melt through the protective rubber coating on the wires. Over a period of five minutes, one by one the spying video cameras overheated and sputtered out as their interior became a glob of melted rubber and fused wiring.

The one overlooking him was the last to go. With a faint flicker of light and the brief odor of burning plastic, the camera stopped transmitting and died.

Johnny could have smiled. He'd blown too hard, and the fire was put out.

He could have smiled, but he did not.

Now, now it was time for work.

Johnny moved swiftly to his feet, swooning slightly for a moment and reflecting as he regained his balance that he really must have ticked Doom off. Like a cat -a cat with a sprained paw- he silently and quickly made his way to the lab after a brief stop at the closet where their uniforms were kept.

Reed had once confided in him that it was so much easier to work in the depths of night because of the still, creeping cold the wee small hours brought. Blood rushed to his head and made it easier to think. The sinking, lingering chill in his limbs kept him working, kept him moving, kept him awake. It was because he was cold that he was able to stay up.

Standing unnoticed in the doorway to the lab as Reed frustratedly scribbled something on his chalkboard, Johnny was about to mess with this whole system.

He called to the fire in the air, a slumbering dragon at his command. He whispered to her, spoke to her, coaxed her to awake.

Slowly she arose, tail waving back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. She prowled about before curling gently around Reed, pressing into him, whispering to him, and in sing-song melody asking, how nice would it be to sit down?

The man was asleep as soon as his seat hit the chair.

With a contented nod, Johnny lowered the temperature back to its previous chill and stepped into the lab, walked over to the counter and withdrew from his pocket what he had stopped for.

A small vial of a very thin, greenish liquid. Sleeping serum.

From a drawer he knew all too well, Johnny took two hypodermic syringes. With one he took up some of the liquid into the needles and walked over to Reed. Carefully, carefully, with the skilled hand of one who had done this a thousand times, he injected the man with enough serum to keep him out for around seven hours or so. With the other, he took a very small blood sample.

And then Johnny set to work. For a little more than an hour he scoured the sample over and over, searching for traces of the poison. He knew for a fact that currently, one of the Fantastic Four other then himself had the toxin dormant in their system, but in the future they had never known precisely when the others had been poisoned. Johnny wanted to act on it shortly after they were infected (or better still, prevent it in the first place- stop this bloody mess from happening in the first place), but if they already carried it, well, he would burn that bridge when he came to it.

After he finally finished, checked, and rechecked again to be sure, he leant back and sighed in relief. Reed, for now, did not carry the poison in his system.

Moving on.

He disposed of the used syringes and obtained two new ones; then took the same amount of serum from the vial, noting to himself to synthesize some more when he had the time and opportunity. He turned, exited the lab, and began to limp down the hall. Managing to keep most of his weight off his bad ankle by pushing against the wall as he walked, Johnny stopped in the correct doorway and gently, gently pushed it open.

After all, Sue was a light sleeper.

Luck seemed to favor him this night, though, and she seemed to be sleeping rather deeply at the moment. Johnny entered the room very quietly. He moved around the bed to her side, pressed the needle to the skin on her upper arm, and pierced it. With utmost care, he injected the entire load into her system. Sue frowned and twitched slightly, (nearly giving Johnny a heart attack in the process), but relaxed in a second.

However, as his hand moved to steady her arm so he could take the sample, she looked towards him and mumbled sleepily, "Johnny..."

Johnny froze, the needle an inch from the crook of her elbow, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Was it all over now? Had he just blown his cover wide open?

An eternity passed. Then, finally, he realized that Sue was still unconscious; she had just been talking in her sleep. He let out a long, slow breath and took the sample as quickly as possible, then limped as fast as he could out of that room.

Back in the lab Johnny scanned her sample with obsessive precision. He checked it over and over, making for dead certain that he hadn't missed it or that it was not simply lying dormant. At last, at long last, he closed his eyes and sighed in relief; a heavy burden falling from his shoulders.

Sue was also free of the poison.

Johnny cleaned up the materials he had used and put everything back in its proper place, then turned his attention to his remaining problem.

Ben.

--

_**Sarah: Dun dun dun!**_

_**Jackie: This chapter is notably longer then our previous ones. There actually was a heckuva lot more we wanted to add to this one, but if we tried to fit it all in, well, this update would have come out sometime around Wednesday or Thursday, and since we try to update weekly (posting Saturday or Sunday), well, that just wouldn't do.**_

_**Sarah: So, sorry folks, but this is all you get for now!**_

_**Jackie: What do you think of this chapter? The big reveal of who's got what, including some not-so-subtle hints about the poison's effects. Plus, a little bit about how Johnny uses his powers. As usual, news questions come up as well. What is the Day? What all was Johnny really doing in Latveria?**_

_**Sarah: We've got a lot of fun things planned, so stay tuned to Darkfire!**_


	5. Reclusion

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: Delayed more then should ever be humanly possible;**_

_**Sarah: With my deepest and most whole-hearted apologies;**_

_**Jackie: We give you double the daily recommended dosage of...**_

_**Sarah: DARKFIRE!!**_

--

Chapter Five

--

_There's an art in seclusion; production in depression.  
If a stranger turns up missing, this song is my confession.  
Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands.  
Losing self in myself, inner demons make demands._

_You're suffocating me, so very hard to breathe.  
My mask is growing heavy, but I've forgotten who's beneath._

_-Anberlin, Reclusion_

Still with about five or so hours left on his hands, Johnny walked over to the blackboards Reed had been frantically scribbling on a few hours ago. They were covered with notes and lists of possibilities of what he thought Doom could be up too. There was, in fact, more yellow then green covering both sides of the pair of blackboards, and it covered such a wide range of topics that Johnny was momentarily stunned.

Eventually, however, the notes came to one ineffable conclusion: Doom was creating (or had created) a biochemical weapon.

He could easily see the man's thought process from there. Why did he have it? What was it to be used on? Was Doom going to attack another country, or was he planning on using it for defense against something? (It was an unlikely possibility due to the method he had been acquiring workers in, but still something to be looked at.)

There was a brief list of what apparently Reed speculated Doom's motivations were. Power and revenge were each circled twice, and then in the clearest section of the second blackboard, where the man had been working just before Johnny put him to sleep, he had chalked up one last note. Reed had decided that Doom was going to use the weapon to hold a country, presumably the US, for ransom in order to get to the Fantastic Four.

The man had put his keen and penetrating mind to the task and, unfortunately, come to the wrong conclusion. Doom was not going to use a roundabout way to get to them. He was going to bypass that route entirely and go straight for the superheroes, and in the world's weakened state, grasp a stranglehold.

It was the perfect plan, with only one counter.

Doom had initially decided to use the Fantastic Four as 'test subjects' to discover the effectiveness of his toxin. Currently, the only people actually infected were himself and Ben. If Johnny could stop this dead in its tracks, none of the others would have been poisoned and the world's major protection would remain intact. With everyone else safe, he would be free to go after Doom himself and finish the job that had been started five years ago, in his timeline.

But firstly, he had to cure Ben.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. With that he reached up and pressed his finger to the space right in front of his throat.

The PCD came out of 'sleep mode,' dropped its translucency, and in a moment Cree flickered into view in front of him. "What do you need, Johnny?" The hologram asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling faintly at him.

"Cree, I need that formula now." He replied evenly, walking over to the cabinet wherein Reed stored his chemicals and opening the doors. It was very helpful that at this point in time, Mr. Fantastic was fantastically absent-minded; immediately assuming when he lost an object or his stores ran down, he had simply used and forgot about it.

If that was the case, Reed was going to be doing a lot of 'forgetting' in the near future.

Over the next several hours Johnny had the hologram repeatedly go over the first tenth of the formula for the antidote- what he had really gone to Latveria for. He'd spent a week there working with the imprisoned scientists in order to learn exactly how to make the antidote, in what dose to give it, and most importantly, how to administer it.

The men and women there had been so kind to him; never doing as he had first suspected and begging him to set them free. They seemed to know already that it was impossible in current times and went about their work with sad smiles. Several of them had asked him to pass on messages to their friends and family, which Johnny had of course agreed to.

But other than that, they had asked nothing from him, expected nothing from him, and merely wanted to help save the world from the atrocities they had created. And even if he had not already had the lives of his friends and family as a motivation, he would have done it for them.

The world had turned upside down when Doom had discovered him, though. Every single scientist there had been slaughtered, proof of how twisted he had been even this early. Johnny had tried to play down his abilities, but even so he was lucky to escape at all, let alone escape with his life. Sue had been right to worry…not that he would ever tell her that.

Anyhow.

By the time the sun was sleepily poking its head above the horizon, Johnny had almost finished the first step in making the antidote. It was horrendously complicated even with the formula and instructions – but then again, it had to be so. Otherwise, the super-geniuses would have been able to come up with a counter to it years ago.

Reed had once compared it to trying to open a locked door when not only did you not have the key, but you had a hundred million doors to choose from, and each lock on each door was configured in an entirely different way.

To quote a friend, whatta revoltin' development.

Doom's scientists had pointed out the correct door and given him outline of a key. Now, all he had to do was make it.

Unfortunately, the analogy of the lock and key did not work so well once you consider that the lock analyzed each and every key attempted for a long list of specific qualifications and if even one was off by a fraction of a decimal, the door would self-destruct.

Again, it was horrendously complicated.

However, as Johnny stretched his arms above his head and yawned, he was not concerned with his progress thus far. Creating the correct antidote was not a one-night job, and he had plenty of time before Ben would even begin acting up. Reed and Sue would be waking up soon enough, so he had best clean up and head out.

As he limped out of the lab some time later, Cree suddenly flickered into view. "Do you need anything else now?" She asked in that hauntingly familiar voice.

"No, thanks. I've finished working for tonight." He said quietly.

Cree nodded. "Alright. Then it's time for bed."

Johnny looked up. "What?'

"You heard me. By my records, over the past two weeks you have had less than fifty hours of sleep. That's about three hours a night."

He cocked an eyebrow amusedly. "Really now?"

"I know you've been physically resting for the last few days, but you also have to rest your mind."

Frowning, Johnny shot back, "I don't _have_ to. I'm used to going without sleep for long periods of time."

Cree placed one hand on her hip and gave him a very Sue-like stare. "Well, if you _did_ stay up, what would you do? Go for a walk?"

"…" Johnny blinked. Irritated at her point, he said grudgingly, "I hate-"

Froze. Realized who he was talking to.

"I hate it when you're right." He rephrased dejectedly, shoulders slumping in genuine shame as he thought of what he had been about to say. Johnny limped back to his couch like a puppy with its tail between its legs, crawled under the covers, and dutifully went to sleep.

--

_There was a low, constant sound in the background, a primitive noise of despair. A child's cries._

--

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Benjamin Jacob Grimm…"

--

"Baby, you can't leave me. Not now. I'm not strong enough. Please, hold on, just a little bit longer. Please, PLEASE! I'm begging you! Hold on... please…"

--

"H-How're we supposed to live now? What do we do?" A desperate voice whimpered.

He looked up to the sky. It was sunny. Why was it sunny? No one, not even the sky, should ever be happy. Not today. No one could ever be happy again. Not now. Not ever.

"We keep on going. Keep on living, keep on surviving. We fight the good fight, because that's just what we have to do. And we never, ever forget."

--

"…taken from us before his time…"

--

A voice of liquid steel, edged with sadistic delight. "How does it feel, Johnny, knowing beyond all doubt that you are the absolute cause of all this devastation? The deaths of your family and friends… and of course, dearest Angel."

Tearing at the restraints. Have to get free. Have to. HAVE TO! "Don't you dare touch her, you sick freak!" He screamed, writhing furiously.

--

_The baby hiccupped and sobbed, flailing its tiny limbs helplessly._

--

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands."

"SHUT UP! Let her GO!"

"No, I don't think I will…"

--

"…survived by his wife, sons, and teammates…"

--

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's almost over. You tell your mother I'm coming."

"I'm scared…"

"Go to sleep now, baby. I love you."

--

"…died as he lived- a misunderstood hero…"

--

_The sharp cries became despairing wails. Such fear… such fear…_

--

"Stop yelling, Johnny! I-I just hate this!"

"I hate you!"

--

"… but in his passing he gives his loved ones the knowledge they need to survive."

--

"Susie, you gotta wake up. Please, wake up… I'm sorry; I didn't mean what I said. I'm so, so sorry…"

--

"…truly, Ben Grimm will never be forgotten."

--

"Look at her, Johnny. See the fear in her sweet eyes. And know that this is absolutely all your fault."

--

_The wails turned to the grating screams of one possessed, growing louder and more and more intense until finally, with a sickening 'SNAP!'_

_It ended._

--

"NO!!"

--

Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He tried to wrench away, but something out of sight had a firm grip on his arms and legs. All he could do was stare, unseeing, into the slate gray ceiling of the infirmary, into the eyes of those he had killed.

Tears pooled in his eyes and spilled over, falling in twin streams across his stubbled face. He whispered softly, brokenly, to the empty night, "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to lie…"

--

_Silence._

--

Johnny opened his eyes and founding himself staring up instead at the stucco-coated ceiling of the Baxter Building's living room. He heard the TV on faintly and felt wary eyes resting on him, but he did not care. He rolled over to face the back of the couch, ignoring his protesting ribs, and buried his face in his pillow. Johnny gritted his teeth so as not to let out a single sound as he wept.

--

A week passed in similar fashion. When his ankle had mostly healed, he went back to his room and things returned to "normal." Johnny worked on the antidote and alternated testing Reed and Sue nightly, while during the day he would sleep or watch his teammates –just watch them, almost to remind himself that they were there. It was strange…Johnny interacted with them, talked and laughed, even attempted a little witty banter with Ben.

But he still didn't feel connected to them. He wasn't part of their world, and pretending would only hurt him more when he finally had to leave it. Johnny had to stay focused…had to spend his time wisely.

Unfortunately, it was relatively quiet in New York at the moment. There were no major threats to the citizens, no maniacal villains bent on world domination. So that left the Fantastic Four with little to do, except in Reed and Johnny's cases, work in the lab.

Still, this was not enough for the time-traveling hero. As he had told Cree, he was used to going long periods without rest. He was used to surviving on two and a half hours of sleep (more like planned unconsciousness) and what little food he could safely steal. All of this… it was sheer luxury, and it made him uncomfortable – not to mention restless.

He wanted to go out and fight some real crime, for goodness sake.

Fortunately, leaning against the doorway and silently watching Ben and Sue chat, the TV blaring unnoticed in the background, he was about to get just what he wanted.

"Breaking news!" A pretty-looking anchoress said in a sugary-sweet voice. "A hostage situation has ensued at New York Central Bank downtown! Recently discharged Corporal James Shawcurt is holding his children, bank staff, and an unspecified number of civilians hostage at gunpoint in the bank's vault.

"Police are at the scene and attempt at diplomacy have resulted in one officer being shot. Shawcurt still has not stated his demands, and police are getting desperate. More on this story as it develops…"

Reed suddenly burst into the living room, clutching, as usual, his PDA. "Sue, Ben, an ex-soldier is holding up New York Central! The Chief of Police wants us to step in!"

Johnny, meanwhile, was frowning musing to himself. "Shawcurt… Shawcurt… as in Tom Shawcurt?" He wondered aloud, stroking his chin.

Reed, catching this, nodded. "Yes… Thomas Shawcurt is his son. He had his sister are among the hostages."

Sue and Ben were already moving to mobilize, putting on their uniforms and such. But Johnny simply stood there, frowning. How did he know Tom Shawcurt? What was it that made him-

Ah. Of course.

In the future, Johnny had known him as Captain Tom Shawcurt, one of the most brilliant military minds of the time. And this man would be his father…

Then something clicked in his brain. Johnny knew this event. This had happened before, only when the Fantastic Four arrived to help gunfire broke out and the Corporal had been killed by accident in the melee. And ironically, as it turned out, James was not a hostile maniac; he just had…

Oh, wow. Johnny had to stop this. His father's death stunted Tom's potential for years and created a barrier of hatred between the man and the Fantastic Four, which had only been dissolved by time. What a boost it would give the future if that barrier had never existed!

That settled, Johnny knew he had to stop this man from dying. But how could he do that without giving away future knowledge? Johnny quickly scrambled together a plan, then finally turned to Reed with an inquisitive look on his face.

Well, here went nothing.

"They said on the news he was recently discharged- why?" He asked curiously.

Reed glanced at his PDA. "Ah… Shawcurt came back shortly before Christmas because his time served was over. Apparently, though, it was also a reward; just before he was originally supposed to return from overseas, his squadron was bombed just outside a small Afghani village. He single-handedly saved one half of the village, but complications resulted in his staying in the Middle East for another six months."

Johnny nodded solemnly. "Okay. Did any planes, jets, aircrafts pass over just before the situation started?" He asked.

Frowning, Reed said, "I hardly see why that matters, but…" He quickly tapped several buttons on his PDA, then looked up in surprise. "Yes, actually. A passenger plane en route to JFK went right by them." He paused. "Johnny, what's this all about?"

"I have a hunch. You guys gotta let me come with you." He said firmly, with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes.

"What? Of course not! Johnny, you're still hurt!" Sue said, walking towards them fully suited up. She gave him and older-sister glare, but he refused to back down.

"Come on, Susie. I'm not going to _do_ anything- and besides that, I can use crutches now!"

She narrowed her eyes at him, folding her arms over her chest.

"Come on... please?" He asked, nearing desperation.

She flung her hands in the air. "Alright, alright. But I'm going to keep an eye on you... if you do anything stupid, I'm bring straight back home. No questions asked."

Johnny relaxed and sighed happily. "Alright- now let's get it on!"

--

_**Sarah: Let's... move on to the next chapter, shall we?**_


	6. Slow Bleed

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Sarah: This space for rent; dial 1-886...**_

_**Jackie: What?**_

_**Sarah: SHH! Trying to earn cash here!**_

_**Jackie: Umm... chapter time.**_

--

Chapter Six

--

_Sometimes I fall asleep and then I lose control,  
I try to find my way out without letting go.  
And will I lose my mind – if it comes back this time?  
If I don't turn out perfect, will you be a friend of mine?_

_-Thousand Foot Krutch, Slow Bleed_

They arrived on scene a minute later, looking somewhat less official with three members in uniform and one in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, on crutches. But as the Fantastic Four landed and everyone piled out, there was no doubt to the severity of the situation.

Police cars and ambulances surrounded the entrance to the bank, but no one had dared to enter after one officer had been dragged out with a bullet in his leg.

Closer to the front of the barricade someone had tapped the bank's security cameras and was displaying the feed from the camera in the vault on a small TV. From there the police were keeping a close eye on the situation inside.

Apparently, two of the hostages tried to subdue Shawcurt, as one was lying unconscious on the floor and another was sporting a furiously bleeding -and most likely broken- nose.

Shawcurt himself, a stubbled, muscular man, had the look of one who had shot and killed before, and was prepared to do it again. He was standing by the vault entrance cradling large gun in one hand. With the other hand he held a two-way radio, and was screaming something that sounded like 'irefisk' into it. Watching the feed, Sue mused aloud, "You know, I could trap him in a force field and take his gun, and this would be over real quick."

"No." Johnny said firmly, drawing the gazes of his teammates. To avoid suspicion, he tried again, "I mean, it would work, but there's a better way." He hobbled over to one of the officers and, with their permission, took their radio. Johnny tossed it to Reed, saying, "Can you tap his frequency?"

"I- of course I can, but... what is this about?" Reed asked, catching it swiftly.

"My hunch. Just get me live with Shawcurt, and I'll explain in a minute." Johnny said, leaning back against a squad car and very, very quietly whispering to Cree to search her databases…

In a minute Reed handed Johnny the modified radio. The young man nodded his thanks, than motioned for everyone to be quiet. When it was so, Johnny flicked the radio on and said in a firm voice,

"Base to Shawcurt; stand down, over."

The radio crackled momentarily and on the screen Shawcurt had nearly jumped out of his skin in shock.

Soon a strained voice came back over the radio, fuzzy but understandable.

"Shawcurt here- Base, where the hell've you been, over?"

"Technical difficulties, Shawcurt." Johnny replied, not missing a beat. "Repeat, stand down, soldier. Combat has ceased, over."

"That's a negative, Base. There's still gunfire and planes overhead in my area, over."

"Shawcurt, that's our men celebrating. Stand down, Corporal, so we can all go home; over." There was a moment of silence, then in a hesitant voice, "But General Arnfisk said-"

Johnny interrupted him. "Shawcurt, I have a personal message for you from Ironfist himself. If you don't stand down immediately, he'll roast your chestnuts on an open fist." Pause. "And he does mean that literally, over."

The motley group of police officers, heroes, and paramedics watched as on the screen, Shawcurt slid down the wall and sighed. "Affirmative, Base. Standing down, over."

"Good man. Remain in position- we're sending some men in to get you out of these. Over and out." Johnny said, then switched the radio off.

The crowd of other people behind him burst into raucous applause and cheering. In the confusion, Johnny called over the chief of police and told him, "Send in a few of your officers, but tell them not to cuff Shawcurt or act aggressively in any way. Bring him outside and call a psychiatrist if he doesn't seem back to normal yet."

The chief, a rather paunchy man with thinning gray hair, frowned deeply at being ordered about. "What's wrong with him?" He asked.

Johnny furrowed his brow. "Haven't you figured it out already? Shawcurt isn't trying to rob the place, and he definitely isn't going to hurt anyone. He's trying to protect them- he's having a flashback to his time overseas. He should come out of it soon, but if you startle him before that happens, he'll flip out."

Frowning, the chief nodded and gave the orders. In a few moments they saw two officers enter the room and bring Shawcurt to his feet and escort him out.

Shortly after, the hostages were led out; some to ambulances, some to be questioned by police, and some to waiting family, but two people –a teenage boy and a little girl- had nowhere to go. They stood around uncomfortably, looking about for someone or something to direct them.

Catching this, Johnny pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his crutches, intending on going after the pair, but suddenly, without warning his ears began to ring, blocking out all other noise. Dizzily he planted one hand on the hood of the car to steady himself, taking a slow breath and waiting for the spell to end.

When it finally did, Sue was looking at him with concern. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Johnny returned quickly, staring past her shoulder to the slowly retreating backs of the children. "I'll be right back, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he gripped his crutches and set off towards them.

"Hey- kid!" He said.

The boy's dark head turned, and a defiant boy with pale skin and angry eyes stared back at him, apparently not recognizing who he was. "Yeah, what do you want?"

'He's so young...' Johnny thought in amazement, recognizing every feature –or at least, what they would one day become. 'Can't be more than 17…'

"I said, what-do-you-want?" Tom said slowly, emphasizing every word.

He blinked. Hadn't really thought that far. "Uh… hey."

The little girl, Vivian, spoke up at that moment and saved him. She tugged on her brother's pant leg and whispered, "Tommy, Tommy! It's the man from the radio!" She peered shyly at him from behind her brother's leg and smiled, displaying several missing teeth. Her hair was a soft, sandy brown, but her eyes were a deep, incredible blue; they displayed such childlike innocence that it pulled at his heart.

"Yeah, that's me." Johnny said, internally tensing up. "I'm Johnny Storm."

At this, there was a flash of recognition on the boy's face. He looked down all of a sudden, ashamed of his reaction. For a moment he was silent, and at last he muttered in return, "Tom Shawcurt. This," He gestured vaguely to his sister, "is Vivi."

The little girl smiled at him bashfully and waved.

He looked up to her brother's face and spoke in a way that would inform the boy and not frighten his sister. "I'm glad that I could help. Your dad's very sick, Tom. It was because he's sick that he did what he did."

"You mean, held up a bank?" Tom said in a mixture of bitterness and shame.

"No, I mean protecting a group of people. In his head, your dad thought he was helping them help themselves, thought that he was saving lives, but in reality… there was no danger in the first place. You've heard of PTSD before, right?"

Tom's eyes widened. "You mean-"

He nodded. "Your dad is going through a rough time right now. I'm no doctor, but I think that maybe if he talks to the right people for a while, he'll be just fine again."

Tom brightened slightly, but said nothing.

Johnny ran a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. "Another thing, Tom. Just for you. I want you to listen to me and just… let this sit in your mind for a little while."

The boy nodded, by this time looking as though he would listen.

"In everything you do; work hard, keep your chin up, and never, ever give in." Johnny said firmly, staring him directly in the eye and trying not to ponder the repercussions of telling the boy what would become his own motto not ten years from now.

Giving the older man a weak smile, Tom nodded again even though he looked as though he didn't quite get it. "Uhh… yessir."

Nevermind. He would get it eventually.

In the distance Johnny could already hear the rush of footsteps that mean the paparazzi had finally caught up. He had to cut this little chat short.

"Good man." He said, leaning forwards on his crutches and resting it on his armpit, while simultaneously reaching out a hand that Tom shook encouragingly. "You two should head home now. I'll see you around." Johnny remarked, in such a way that even Vivi knew; it wasn't a statement, it was a promise.

Suddenly, the little girl spoke up. She had apparently been following their conversation the best she could, and said in a grateful voice, "Thank you, Mr. Storm, for helping my Daddy."

"You're quite welcome, Vivi." He replied gently.

And then the photographers were on him. Blinding flashes and incessant clicking, both combined to agitate him like sand in the eye. Johnny was quickly resisting the urge to flame on and get out of there. But, as he was not willing to take another tumble down the stairs once reaching home, he took a slow breath and turned around, beginning to make him way out of the crowd and ignoring as many questions as he could.

He at least couldn't blame them. The Johnny Storm they knew was a cocky, self-centered idiot that had always had time for the media. Always time for question, autographs, etcetera.

Well, weren't they about to get a surprise.

"Johnny! How was it in Brazil ?"

"What do you think Shawcurt's sentence should be?"

"Johnny, how long were you cheating on Jessica?"

"How did you receive these injuries?"

"Johnny, is it true that the Fantastic Four is moving to Chicago?"

All the noises ran together in Johnny's head, forming a great, unending static in his mind. He frowned and tried to concentrate on not setting a crutch down on anyone's foot, but with reporters and photographers pressing in so close, he was having a difficult time. Finally, Johnny decided that he could not take this anymore, so in the calmest, most diplomatic way possible, he addressed the horde.

"I would like to respectfully request that my family and I be left alone. We are people- not objects, not idols – we have the same flaws and strengths as everyone else… well, with some slight differences. But anyways, we are human, and humans share the same basic needs; like the need for space."

Dead silence. The crowd surrounding him was stupefied by his response, and were not broken out of this until Johnny continued, "Thank you, and to all further questions: No comment."

After that the uproar was so loud that Sue had to get to gently "nudge" several of the reporters out of the way with a force field. The rest of his team pulled him out of the way rather quickly, and on the ride back things were rather silent.

Everyone, it seemed, had been struck dumb by this new Johnny Storm. The eyes of New York were on the Baxter Building; waiting to see what he would do next.

--

The next few days passed without further event. Johnny continued his work, and by February 13, he had nearly finished. He was putting the final touches on the antidote as the sun rose, and Johnny knew that by the next day he would be absolutely done. However, there would be no working on February 14.

Because the fourteenth of every month was the Day.

The Day of Mourning.

For years, the remnants of the Fantastic Four had to survive day-to-day, and in order to do that they couldn't be dwelling on the deaths of their comrades all the time. So, that they might be able to channel their grief into one day and be productive the rest of the month, Reed and Johnny had established the Day of Mourning on February 14, 2014, and for the fourteenth of every month following that.

The days leading up to it were always rough ones on the family; everyone was doing their best not to break down too early, and tensions often rose- sometimes resulting in fights.

This month was no exception. Johnny was becoming increasingly testy, but currently his overriding instinct was to treat his family with the utmost respect. Unfortunately, every time he opened his mouth he felt like biting someone's head off- and in order to stop himself from doing this he basically cut himself off from everyone else.

Moody and self-absorbed, Johnny was basically unaware of the other activity going on in the Baxter Building until the thirteenth.

On that day, he could no longer shut them out- mainly because Sue was running about like the cliché chicken with its head cut off with armfuls of clothes or other items. Reed had completely retreated to his lab, which Sue was yelling at him for every few minutes.

"What's going on?" Johnny said as the blonde whirlwind blew past his door for the thousandth time, heading for the room she shared with Reed.

From his position on the couch, Ben rolled his eyes. "Last-minute packing."

"Packing? What for?" He asked, frowning.

Ben gave him a strange look. "I'd ask ya if you'd been under a rock lately, but I know ya have. Reed an' Sue're goin' on some cruise."

"Oh, right. Of course. When're- ah, when are they getting back again?" Johnny replied, pretending he'd known all along. He hadn't.

Rolling his eyes again, the rock-man replied, "A couple days after me."

"Right, right." Pause. Wait, what? "When're you getting back?"

Ben facepalmed. "Two days, Matchstick. Saturday night. 'Licia and me are going to Tijuana for a couple days. Comprende?"

"Okay! No need to get sarcastic!" Johnny said, raising his hands in defense. A cruise? Tijuana? Had this happened before? Was he even here for it back then? Immediately he wondered if it were at this point in time that Sue and Reed had been poisoned- but then again, he reminded himself, he'd nearly finished the antidote. He would test them when they got back, and if that were the case, he would be able to cure them. Nothing to worry about.

"REED! GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!" Sue screamed, dragging a pair of large suitcases into the main room. Ben and Johnny winced as the scientist came scrambling into the room, but averted their eyes as Sue shot them a fierce glare.

A short shrieking session later, Reed approached meekly with his own (much smaller) suitcase in hand. "So Johnny, you'll be able to hold down the fort for a couple of days?" He asked nonchalantly, as if the last few minutes had not occurred.

"Yeah, it'll be fine." He said, nodding.

"You'll be sure to take your medicine, turn off the lights, and lock the doors if you head out?"

Johnny blinked. Medicine? Oh, right. That bottle of pills in the bathroom. The doctors had given him some pain pills, but he honestly hadn't even opened it yet. The pain didn't bother him- at least, not enough to take something for it. "Sure." He agreed, technically only one-third lying.

"No wild parties. We'll be keeping an eye on MTV, just in case." The man gave Johnny a long, measuring stare.

He forced a humourless laugh. "Nah, I'll just... play video games or something."

Across the room, Sue had moved their luggage to the elevator. "Reed, the cab's waiting."

Both men made their way over, Johnny taking a slightly longer time. Finally, Reed turned to him. "Alright. We'll see you in a few days, then."

Sue turned to him and gave him a strong -but not too strong- embrace, which he, startled, returned. "Take care of yourself, little brother." She murmured in his ear.

"You, too, sis." Johnny replied, using every ounce of his self-restraint not to break down then and there.

She leaned back and beamed at him. "Goodbye- for now!"

And then they were gone.

Johnny let out a long sigh and leaned against the door frame. "You, too."

Less than an hour later Alicia arrived to pick Ben up.

He was truly alone again.

--

That night seemed to last forever. Despite the pain in his still-healing ribs, Johnny lay on his side curled up in a ball on the floor of his bedroom and stared, barely blinking, into space. He was nearly trembling with anticipation.

The moon rose and set, and pre-dawn light cast wan shadows on his walls. The clock on his bedside table read 6:15. Slowly, shakily, Johnny pushed himself to his feet and limped over to the bed. He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge, then removed his shirt and threw it in the corner.

And he looked down to his wrists.

With faint affection, he traced the faded scars running along forearm. Though they were and would forever be disfigured by his actions as a young boy, Johnny's wrists still seemed so unspoiled compared to the way they had been in the future. If they had been worried about him after three attempts to take his life, well, they had seen nothing yet.

In the future, after everyone else had gone, he had attempted to kill himself another four times. He should have died many times over, but every single time he'd been stopped against his will.

In those years, he'd spent more time lying strapped to a hospital bed then most people did sleeping.

The truth was, Johnny was not well. Obviously, not physically, but mentally and emotionally he had been broken over and over. The only reason he was able to withstand living with the ghosts of those he had once killed, day after day, night after night, was because of the Day.

When he could finally let it all out.

Taking a shuddering breath, he closed his eyes.

And let himself remember.

The horror and confusion in Angel's eyes as she lay, prone, before Doom.

The doctor, carrying away a twisted black lump of flesh. Sue screaming to know what had happened, but all they told her was that she did not want to see…

The sound of a body crumpling to the floor. Turning around to see his beloved sister, pale and lifeless. Anger fading instantly as he shrieked her name.

The tortured look of despair on Reed's face as the light left Sue's eyes.

Pleading with his love not to leave him as she urged him to be strong.

Clouds gathering overhead as the rest of the mourners left; a solitary woman standing at the grave.

The all-encompassing black clouding over his vision as his teammates looked on in horror.

The harsh snap of a pretty young neck, and a silence that ate a hole in his heart.

The wretched creature that was his guilt clawing out his insides, scraping him empty day after day.

Johnny spent that day remembering everything he had tried so hard to forget for the last month. Remembering. Despairing. Grieving.

At first he had been slightly confused about whether or not he should actually participate in the Day of Mourning; once he'd gone back in time, essentially everything had been undone - they were alive again. But it didn't feel that way to him. Reed, Ben, and Sue were there, and that was an indescribably happy thing, but there were too many missing people for it to feel just right.

Frankie and Valeria.

Ben and Alicia's boys.

And of course, his own family.

She was alive now. A few short miles away, she was completely unharmed.

But then again, she didn't yet know who he was. Johnny wasn't supposed to meet her for several years yet, and even if he was going to go and ruin her life by following through on that meeting, he didn't want to take the chance and ruin it by going and talking to her now.

Confused, frustrated, and upset; Johnny scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his arm. But then again, that was what the Day was for. Letting out everything you've tried so hard to block out for the past month.

That Day Johnny did his best to release everything he'd tried so hard to hide from his teammates. He let himself feel again. He wept, threw things, screamed into a pillow, and finally settled amongst the wreckage, watching the sunset from the same position he'd spent 'unsleeping' the night before.

As the emotional exhaustion began to set in, Johnny made a promise to himself, to everyone. "I'm sorry I failed you before," he whispered, "and I swear I won't let it happen again."

--

_**Sarah: WOO! ELEVEN PAGES! A RECORD!**_

_**Jackie: What did you guys think? Excited about next time?**_

_**Sarah: Well, too bad! Two chapters means that the only way there'd be an update Sunday would be if we scrambled ridiculously freaking hard and got out a half chapter!**_

_**Jackie: Umm... this bit was actually less than we originally planned.. a half-chapter Sunday might be possible...**_

_**Sarah: Don't ruin it! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!**_


	7. Comatose

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None of them have ever seen this side before...except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: Three important topics to address before we head on with today's chapter, because we so often forget to talk about them in our Author's Notes. Anyways, we're doing our best to merge the comic and movie worlds more and more as we ourselves learn more and more about the characters. We'll do our best to explain each new character as best we can, each old villain the same, and so on and so forth so those who've never turned a page can still follow along. And yes, to you comic buffs, this does mean that we'll be getting some light crossover-y goodness from other heroes along the way. That's just a secret for now. n.n**_

_**Sarah: On the next note, you know those random fics where the main character can get horrifically maimed and disfigured, and yet by the miracle of technology he suddenly pops out the next chapter completely fine? Yeah, in case ya haven't noticed, this ain't one of them fics. Reality is j00r friend. Real injuries stick around and handicap you for-freaking-ever. –says this with leg propped up on pillow and bandages on shoulder- Trust me. TT**_

_**Jackie: Finally, just so you all are aware, the disorder mentioned in this chapter has few connections to the real thing. It goes by the same name, but that is simply because they haven't found a better one yet. It's explained below- just… read on. :P**_

--

Chapter Seven

--

_I don't wanna live!  
I don't wanna breathe!  
'Less I feel you next to me -  
You take the pain I feel.  
(Waking up to you never felt so real!)  
I don't wanna sleep!  
I don't wanna dream!  
'Cause my dreams don't comfort me,  
The way you make me feel…  
(Waking up to you never felt so real!)_

_-Skillet, Comatose_

That night Johnny was so emotionally drained that when he finally did pass into the land of Nod, he did not have a nightmare. He'd used up nearly all of his horrific visions for the moment, and his mind could come up with no new fearsome situation to torture him with.

He did, on the other hand, have a night terror.

An unexplainable phenomenon that usually occurred in younger children, night terrors were comparable to nightmares, but there were several key differences. Whatever happened while he was asleep was completely lost to memory, and it was nearly impossible to be wakened from one. From what others had told him, during a night terror he would thrash about or kick, sometimes even moan softly – normally he had trained himself to stay absolutely still, absolutely silent when sleeping to avoid detection.

Johnny had actually suffered night terrors as a child, but back then he'd had parents and a sister to help him overcome it. He'd been fine for several decades, but after Sue died… something in him just…snapped. The night terrors came back in full force. But this time, they took second place to his regular nightmares. This time, something was different.

Normally the predominant emotion in a night terror was, as the name implied, fear. Panic.

But Johnny had nothing to fear outwardly anymore. In his time, he had lost absolutely everything precious to him. Now, his true demons were inside.

In his night terrors, Johnny felt only despair.

Relentless, overwhelming sorrow that seeped into his bones, lurked within the darkest places in his soul. So vivid and real it was like a great weight lying on his chest. Crushing him. Suffocating him. Killing him in a slow but sure manner.

And it just didn't _end_.

He and Reed were only two sufferers of the same disorder, which had laid claim to so many more in dying Earth. 'Mr. Fantastic' made the connection between their symptoms and night terrors, but the key differences made them more inclined to give it a new name. However, they had simply never gotten around to it.

But anyways.

Johnny finally awoke with a strangled scream in his throat, drenched in cold sweat, more than a few nicks and scratches on his abused body from rolling about in the broken wreckage of his Day. It didn't really hurt all that much, but he figured that it would be a bad thing for the rest of the team to come back to furniture speckled with blood. As such, he headed to the bathroom.

Or… tried to.

In the process of limping his way down the hall, Johnny suddenly felt as if all the mass in his body had shifted to his head and wanted to explode from within. He swayed violently and pitched forwards, infinite coloured dots swarming into view. The last thing he saw was the ground eagerly rushing up to meet him.

'This is going to hurt.' He thought grimly.

--

He was right. It did hurt.

Not enough for a concussion, but bad enough for a lasting migraine, he assessed critically, lingering on the floor for a moment because frankly, he didn't want to even attempt moving into what would probably be a wall of pain. Finally, stupidly, Johnny balled up his fists and pushed himself off the floor with his knuckles. He groaned aloud. Yup, there it was.

He half-staggered to the bathroom and knocked the door open with his shoulder. Beneath bare feet, the tile was bitterly cold. Something in his brain flashed a warning light at that, but through the fog of a mind that had recently woken up and been knocked out in short order, he could care less. All he wanted was a damp washcloth and a dry towel.

He splashed some water on his face, wincing at accidental contact with what would be a most attractive bump on the head. As the warm water trickled down his skin and into the sink, he mused that a hot shower would be deliciously wonderful right now. He straightened up, mentally toying with that idea, while at the same time examining himself in the mirror. There, he spotted something that made his blood run cold.

Oh. Oh, dang. Hot shower, yes. Enjoy it, no.

Still shirtless from yesterday, Johnny could clearly see a thumb-sized patch of blackened skin in the center of his chest.

He swore.

Loudly.

Slamming his hands down onto the counter, Johnny screwed up his eyes and tried to stay as calm as possible. He had done this before and everything was alright. He'd survived just fine. He'd caught it early; it was his skin, it would be okay. It was only himself this time. No one was in danger. It was going to be _fine_.

He let out a long sigh and straightened up, moving closer to the mirror in order to take a closer look at the area. All things said, it looked like a dark bruise except for several tiny lines extending from the center. As if it were slowly spreading out.

But this was no simple bruise.

This was the poison slowly attacking his body. This was its way of spreading its way throughout the entire body, every system, every organ. First by overtaking the bloodstream, then weakening and altering the rest of the body until absolutely everything had shut down. Until there was not even the slightest chance of revival.

And this was where it began.

Johnny set to rummaging through the cupboards for something, and he finally emerged with a straight razor.

Everyone else had responded, at least in some minor way, to their own crude attempts at antidotes. But because of his powers, any sort of new substance in his veins –whether helpful or hindering- had been simply burned away. However, this toxin was of a different breed entirely. In his case, the razor was the only way to treat a poison he was unable to burn through. He had to bleed it out.

He removed his bandages as well as the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower, turning the hot water on full blast as he did so and closing the door. Johnny inhaled the steam in deep breaths, trying to steady his shaking hands. Finally, when he could delay it no longer the man raised the sharpened blade and pressed it to his skin, pushing harder and harder until he saw the first drop of blackened blood.

Firmly setting his jaw, Johnny slid the strangely cold steel edge along his skin in a diagonal line across the patch, continuing the neat incision until the liquid that so eagerly spilled from the wound turned a healthy crimson. Unfinished, he made another cut in the opposite direction; this one was far deeper – but not quite deep enough to strike muscle. The two cuts crossed in the center and formed an X in the middle of his chest. Black and red mixed with the steaming water and dripped to the floor harmlessly.

Johnny waited with eerie patience as the black patch faded from his skin and the blood flowing steadily from the open wounds became entirely scarlet.

He pointedly ignored the tainted razor still waiting, innocently, in his hand; ready to be used again if necessary. Ignored the sick sense of pleasure he received from the release of emotions this bloodletting had given him. Ignored the fact that it would be so easy to do it again, and again, and again. Ignored the fact that with a flick of the wrist he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore.

Ignored all that, because he was on a mission. And that mission required that he place duty before pleasure.

He snapped the blade shut and clutched it tightly in his fist. A nearly unconscious action led to it becoming melted shut, taking away even the slightest temptation. Johnny was not going to fall into that trap again.

He did not know how long he stood there, glaring into space; hanging on to a useless piece of metal like a lifeline. But eventually, as the wound on his chest stopped bleeding, the man returned to a normal state.

Ben was supposed to come back tomorrow. What was he doing standing around for?

--

Fresh bandages on his old and new wounds and a sense of fierce determination in his heart, Johnny set to cleaning his room and, in fact, their entire section of the Baxter Building with a vengeance. He finished just as the sun was reaching the peak of its daily journey across the sky, and all of a sudden the man found himself with absolutely nothing to do.

He stood on mildly unsteady legs and surveyed his surroundings, taking a longing glance out the window. Johnny wanted, so badly, to go outside and make himself useful to the world… but knowing New York like he did, it was very likely that something would go horribly wrong and he would accidentally expose himself to the world. And that was completely unacceptable at this point.

But he had to do something, he mused, or he would go stir-crazy. As a matter of fact, without any horrific being to run from or looming evil to defeat, he was already going slightly stir-crazy. Johnny had a lot of energy and nothing to use it on.

Then something clicked in his brain.

Aha. Training. That was certainly a possibility.

But where?

The roof was the first, most obvious choice. However, he did not trust the fact that it was not being watched from an outside source, and Johnny was not going to take any chances. So he would just have to make due here.

Slowly, taking his time so as to not aggravate his chest, he moved the furniture out of the way and rolled back the carpet to reveal the plain metal flooring. Then, he headed into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. With it in hand, Johnny made his way to the center of the cleared space and sat down cross-legged.

Perfect.

He took a deep breath and concentrated on the water.

When you got right down to it, the basis of Johnny's power lay in his unconscious ability to control the speed of molecules in any given substance. If he sped it up, the item would heat up and eventually combust. However, if he did the opposite… if he reduced it, then it would possibly shift the state of matter it held.

For example…

Johnny saw past the surface of the water and saw to the molecules he knew composed it, then by expending some of his own energy, urged them to move faster. The liquid began to bubble, then froth, then steam, until finally it boiled away and there was nothing but air occupying the empty glass.

But he was not finished.

The man next looked to the air, to the steam slowly spreading throughout the room. And in a similar yet completely reversed process, Johnny absorbed the heat energy in the vapour and returned it to a liquid, then finally solid stage.

Opening his eyes to see a jar of entirely frozen liquid sitting before him, his eyes shone pleasantly. "Now, let's kick it up a notch." He muttered, using the same technique to absorb the ambient heat in the room. The energy he gained from that was like a bucket of ice-water thrown onto a slumbering man. Johnny was very suddenly awake, alert, and raring to go.

He stood up and placed the glass off on a side table, then returned to his position in the center of the room in order to prepare for a mock battle.

Closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

One opponent- male; protective mask, armour, and dark green cloak. Weaknesses: eyeholes, joints, relies on oxygen. Strengths: absolutely everything.

Five minutes. Take him down.

Johnny flamed on, but kept his powers harshly restrained. As a young man, he had been in a mindset where he thought that in order to really 'make his mark' on the big bad villain, he had to give off as much heat as possible. However, years of experience taught him differently. By having his flames curl no more than a centimeter off his skin and absorbing, rather than expelling heat in the air, Johnny was able to both conserve his energy and slowly regain lost strength.

That was the major thing about his abilities. In terms of raw power, Johnny ranked up there with the world's top supers. But power is not the only thing that makes one great.

A raging forest fire can devour whole acres of trees in mere hours, if the wind is right. Nonetheless, it will eventually and inevitably burn itself out.

Control.

Control was what made the difference between a campfire and a wildfire. Control was what made the difference between a lantern and a torch. Control was what made the difference between a super and a hero.

Control was what made Johnny great. Because that was what he was, and would never be finished, learning.

Four minutes. Take him down.

In the remaining time, Johnny fiercely battled his imagined villain. Throwing everything he had barring actual flames, he did his best to subdue them. But every single time, the villain won. Every single time they figured out a way to get out- because Johnny knew, there always was a way out. And if he knew it, then his opponent certainly did.

So why couldn't he get his act together and finish the blasted thing? What mental block kept him from being able to give his all?

The time passed, fortunately for his abused body. Aching and sore from the exertion, Johnny finally returned, defeated, to the floor.

This wasn't working.

Despite his best efforts so far, neither his mind nor his body was in top shape. Looked like daily training was going to have to become a necessity.

As Johnny slowly and painedly stretched his sore muscles, he made a mental note to subtly 'hint' to Reed to make a training room sometime soon. He didn't care to have to worry about Sue's curtains every time he wanted to throw a fireball.

When he finally finished, all he wanted to do was something passive; something that didn't require moving his aching... everything. But to stop in the middle of training would be to throw what he had just accomplished out the window. Besides that, to stop doing _something_ would mean that he would have to think.

And in his current state of mind, thinking was one of the last things he wanted to do.

Johnny sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his short locks. How could he stop thinking? Everything in this place- every table, every chair and lamp and scrap of carpet held a memory he didn't want to dwell on.

He had to get out.

But wait a second... hadn't he ruled out doing something outside because something always went horribly, horribly wrong?

We-ell...

He didn't have to go out and fight crime, per se_._ He could just go for a walk.

A nice little walk around the block. Yeah, that would be good.

A few minutes later Johnny was walking out the front door (his ankle having healed enough that he merely walked with a pronounced limp) onto the street. It was a cold, crisp day, but the sun was shyly peeking out from behind the clouds and basking the city in a clear light. And as soon as the afternoon sun hit his face, Johnny knew that he had made the right decision.

Out here... amid the screaming tires and blaring horns, with the chatter of thousands upon thousands of people rising up about him, he felt strangely peaceful. Almost like…like he was home.

Chuckle. Stupid thought.

He walked aimlessly down the streets, turning here and there, not really paying attention to where he was going. After a long while, Johnny found himself walking into a fairly shady neighbourhood. Crumbling brick walls were coated with graffiti. Trash was strewn all about. People standing in the shadows sent him fierce glares, as if blaming him for their problems. The sun was hiding its face now; it had turned its back on this part of town.

This type of scene... this was more familiar to Johnny then the restored New York was. He started to think that he'd wandered into a nightmare when suddenly, amidst all the darkness of his surroundings, a brilliant light shone in.

Metaphorically speaking.

Just ahead of him one building, slightly smaller than all the rest, was practically gleaming compared to all the rest. The brass lettering above the open front doors read Victory Christian Center.

Oh. That made sense. It was a church.

He didn't really want to go inside, but if he continued wandering outside he was liable to be mugged or something of the like. Also, seeing as it was a Saturday, there would probably be no one inside to bother him.

Which meant that Johnny would be able to take refuge in there... if only for a few minutes.

The front doors had been flung wide open, but no one was in sight. So it was with slight relief that the man slipped inside and made his way into the deserted sanctuary.

Sanctuary.

That was what he really needed at the moment. A place to be where no one could find him, where he could sit and not think.

Johnny walked down the center aisle and stepped into one of the pews, sitting down and heaving a great sigh. He rested his head in his hands and rested a moment; allowing the warm, musty air to fill his lungs and calm his mind. But even while at peace, his head was filled with questions - the greatest one, of course, regarding his own outlook on the future and this timeline.

It hadn't happened. Everyone was alright. So why did he still care so much for those he had lost there?

"In my experience, it's hard to stop anyone from caring- especially yourself." A deep, rumbling voice interrupted Johnny's thoughts and nearly scared him half to death.

At the sound, his head jerked up suddenly. An older, richly black man was sitting next to him and smiling. It was at that point that Johnny realized that he had spoken aloud- and the man was merely responding to him.

"Welcome to Victory Christian Center. I'm Pastor Jim Walsh. You want to tell me more about this problem you're having?" The man asked.

Johnny hesitated. Obviously, he couldn't say anything about the future... but something about him- maybe just the fact that he was a pastor, made him feel at ease. Well, maybe it would be alright just to ask him about his struggle. Besides it wasn't like he would ever see him again.

"I've been having this... dream lately. In my dream, something happens and basically everyone I know dies. But it's just a dream. I know it didn't happen, but I can't stop myself from treating everyone around me like I treated them after they died." Pause. "In the dream."

The man furrowed his great brow and leaned back against the pew. There was silence for a fair few minutes, before Pastor Walsh finally spoke up. "When I was a boy, I had a dream once that a friend of mine pushed me down an elevator shaft. It was just a dream, but I couldn't help myself from distancing myself from him for the next week or so, just in case."

He smiled wryly. "Eventually, my friend confronted me about how I'd been acting and I realized that I couldn't treat him as if he had done something he hadn't. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to myself.

"Our brains are smarter then we think they are. They pick up on things that we don't; our suspicions, our fears, and all of that comes out through dreams. But that doesn't mean that these dreams are necessarily true. We have to give people the chance to prove themselves for who they really are, not who we think they are or what we fear they could be.

"You just need to make the distinction between the dream versions of these people, and the real ones. Once you do that, you should be able to be just fine."

There was quiet in the pews as the pair sat, lost in their own thoughts, until finally Johnny spoke up. "You know, that actually made sense. For a moment there, I thought you were going to preach at me or something."

Pastor Walsh chuckled, then added bemusedly, "Well, if you'd like a sermon, I've a few very catchy ones prepared. Sin and hellfire – one has lepers."

Johnny shook his head bemusedly. "I think I'm fine."

"I think you will be, _Mr. Storm_."

--

_**Sarah: Oh yes, we DID just quote Shepherd Book. Ten points to you for catching it. :3**_


	8. Faint

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: Aheh-heh! ;;**_

_**Sarah: T.T -glares-**_

_**Jackie: Am I going to be shot? I don't want to die...**_

_**Sarah: Too bad. -shoots j00- For all your complaining about me, you disappearz for a week and more importantly, DOES NOT POZT!**_

_**Jackie: -nurses gunshot wound- Oh, and before I get shot by someone ELSE: neither of us supports alcohol or drinking in general... but it's a bar scene - what can you do?**_

--

Chapter Eight

--

_I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard -  
Handful of complaints, but I can't help the fact that everyone can see these scars.  
I am what I want you to want – what I want you to feel.  
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you to just believe this is real.  
So I let go, watching you turn your back like you always do -  
Face away and pretend that I'm not,  
But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I got._

_-Linkin Park, Faint_

By the time Johnny got back that night, it was very late and his legs were aching. He barely had time to reheat himself a container of mysterious pasta and stretch again before sweet unconsciousness claimed him.

That night, he had the best non-drug-induced sleep he had had since arriving in the past. Perhaps talking to Pastor Walsh about making distinctions had helped- or perhaps it was getting the chance to release some of his pent-up emotions in…various ways…but Johnny was - dare he say it - close to being in a good mood as he lay down to sleep. That night, he slept like a baby for five straight hours.

Erm... a very restless baby, perhaps?

In any case.

Johnny was immediately awakened by the sound of heavy footsteps and a door opening. The man shot to his feet and was on full alert before he even realized that it was Ben finally coming back in.

However, as opposed to the normal straight barging-in approach Ben took when coming home, for some reason his footsteps were not as heavy, his actions slightly muffled. It took Johnny a minute, but eventually he figured it out. Ben was being stealthy.

And for whatever reason Ben was doing so, it did not sound good for Johnny.

Quietly Johnny slipped back into his bed, lying as still as possible and feigning sleep. As predicted, a few moments later his door creaked open and the great orange man 'tip-toed' in. He drew closer and closer, until finally his shadow passed over the blond's face.

At that moment, Johnny's eyes snapped open and he cried, "Watch yourself!"

"AHHH!" Ben yelped, jerking backwards. He had been carrying a bucket of something over his head, and with the moment nearly all of it sloshed over the edge and splashed down upon him. Ben was, very suddenly, drenched in ice water. "You- you little rat! You weren't sleeping at all!" He cried, outraged that his prank had not succeeded.

"You didn't think I was going to just let that happen, did you?" Johnny shot back with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Ben frowned, tossing the almost empty bucket off into a corner. "Well, no, but... aww, geez. Dangit, Johnny… Now I gotta go change." He pulled off an incredibly loud Hawaiian-style shirt, grumbling something under his breath about psychics and fire and psychic fire.

Johnny shook his head bemusedly as Ben walked away; watching the retreating orange back with a familiar fondness. "No welcome back present for you!" He called, then looked away.

And quickly did a monstrous double take.

Dead in the center of Ben's back, almost invisible to anyone not looking for it, was a relatively small patch of charcoal gray rock.

His heart stopped.

And then it seemed like everything slowed down and sped up at the same time. What was going on? Why was Ben already exhibiting symptoms? Wasn't that supposed to happen much, much later? Why had Doom activated it now? Had he learned more than Johnny'd suspected?

Had Sue and Reed also been infected?

Had he already failed?

Shaking his head to snap himself out of it, Johnny managed to get a hold on himself. Everything was going to be _fine_. He had the antidote finished now, so all he had to do was administer it to Ben and he'd be alright.

Okay. That was a plan.

Faking a jovial tone, Johnny strolled up behind Ben and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "So, how was Tijuana?"

"Not sure. We didn't do much sightseeing." Ben replied. How could you- when one tourist is blind and another the object of both adoration and fear?

He blinked. Not quite a helpful reply, but he could make do. "Ah, cool! You can tell me all about it over a drink. Let's go." Johnny gave Ben a pat on the shoulder. When Ben's gaze turned to follow the hand, the time traveler used the distraction as cover for pocketing the tiny vial of antidote, which he had placed above the doorframe for just such an occasion as this.

In short order they were out the door and gone, one of the team members with his head in the proverbial clouds about anything out of the ordinary, and the other with a grim mission to undergo shortly.

Pun only slightly intended.

--

The bar they eventually entered was one of Johnny's few old hangouts that he could actually stand- one of those small family-owned joints that operated in relative obscurity and in which one could pass out drunk usually without the fear of the owners having plastered it all over the news the next morning.

Bless them, Johnny thought fondly as he approached the bar. The bartender, a tall, lanky man with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail who went by Damien, flashed him a wide grin as he approached. "Johnny, my man! Haven't seen you around in a while!" He exclaimed, slowly wiping out the bottom of a glass.

Johnny nodded his head to the side apologetically. "Sorry, Damien. Been lying low recently. Trying to stay out of the public eye for a little while, you know?" He rested his arms on the counter and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. Ben was watching- or if he wasn't, he should be.

Damien shrugged, finishing his work on the glass. "I say you're crazy- then again, it's not my life, so how should I know?" He set it down and tossed the cloth over his shoulder, then planted both palms firmly on the bar. "So, what can I get you?"

The hero made the impression of trying to decide, even though he'd firmly stuck to the same drink for years. "A beer for me, and hows-about a Thing special?" In the corner of his mind he hoped that that drink had been invented by now.

He was in luck; in short order Damien was passing him a bottle and an almost bucket-sized mug made of steel and filled with the strongest stuff in the house- strong enough for even Ben to feel it. And hopefully, strong enough to mask the effects of the antidote.

The bartender winked; something mysterious in his murky green eyes. "On the house. Give my regards to Ben."

Slightly surprised, Johnny nodded in appreciation. "Much obliged, Damien."

Heading back to their currently empty booth, he sat down and unobtrusively took the vial from his coat pocket and removed the stopper, then poured the entire contents into Ben's drink and swirled it around slightly to mix it through and through.

He had only just finished when Ben returned from the washroom, looking a little ragged. "Sorry 'bout that. Dunno what came over me alla sudden."

Johnny knew.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. Maybe a stiff drink will sober you up." Wait, what kind of logic was that? He twitched mentally and hoped Ben would blame it on 'Johnny being Johnny,' and not on his mostly unprepared-ness. Honestly, he hadn't expected this to happen for years now. What on earth could have happened to start it this early?

And he was off again.

A minute or so later Johnny was brought back to earth by a great orange hand waving in his face. "Earth to Matchstick... come in, Matchstick..."

With a rush of déjà vu, he shook his head suddenly. "Mmm. Sorry, Ben. Kinda spaced out there for a sec."

Ben rolled his eyes, brought the great mug to his lips, and took a long drink. "See, that's what I'm talkin' about. You've been actin' all messed up since after the Surfer left, and it freaks the rest of us right out the window. Actin' like a kicked puppy or somethin'." He took another drink, then grimaced slightly. "What is this, anyways?"

To give himself more time to answer, Johnny chose to answer the last question first. "It's called the 'Thing Special.' You know you've made it when they make a drink after you…" He managed, but as Ben was clearly not amused and wanted an answer, not a wisecrack; the man went on solemnly.

"Honestly, Ben, I'm not acting any differently." Lie. He was doing his very best to act chipper. He just wasn't very good at it. "I've always been this way, but Sue's the only one who's known about it until recently." Half-truth. There were many random periods in Johnny's life where he was content, even happy. This didn't happen to be one of them. "I guess I just got tired of putting up a front for you guys." Filthy, filthy lie! If he weren't putting up a front, they'd have institutionalized him by now!

Johnny took a sip of his beer and resisted the urge to imitate Ben's grimace. The only alcohol he'd had in semi-recent years was much stronger stuff then this, and with his natural ability to 'burn through' the alcohol in his bloodstream, the overall effect of drinking cheap booze like this was basically nothing. He was drinking flavoured water.

Bleh.

Ben sighed. He looked to his teammate with a strange expression in his watery blue eyes. He looked... well, old. This was a bit of a shocker for Johnny. In the future, Ben had never lived past his mid-forties. He didn't have any hair to gray, and his strength had certainly not decreased until the poison fully extended its reign, and by then it was a moot point. Aging had never really been a concern of any member of the Fantastic Four- they all just unconsciously assumed that one day they'd be killed in a battle against someone like Galactus, Deathstroke, or Casanova Frankenstein.

But this look in Ben's eyes... it was the closest they had ever came to true old age... and it made Johnny even more uncomfortable then he already was.

"I'm sorry ya feel that way, kid." Ben rumbled, taking a slow drink. Setting the mug down with a dull 'clunk,' he stared at him penetratingly. "Susie's worried sick about you, ya know. She thinks that if she don't keep a close eye on ya, yer gonna go off again and... well, you know…" He faltered at the end, unable to verbalize the thought.

That struck a nerve with Johnny. They were accusing him of trying to quit this early in the game. "That I'm going to do what again, Ben?" He said in the same harsh tone he had used on Sue weeks earlier. "Try to kill myself?" He shook his head disgustedly as Ben tried not to wince. "Look, it's not going to happen. And you can take that _straight back_ to Sister Dear when you make your report." Technically, not a lie. He wasn't going to try… he was going to succeed. And again, it would happen much, much later; when all of this was finally over with. But for now, the game must play on.

The aged look intensified in Ben's eyes, and he spoke softly. That was the thing about the Thing. When he shouted or yelled, it a little intimidating, yes, but because it happened most of the time you could eventually tune it out. However…when his voice grew quietly, it was absolutely certain that he was serious, and you needed to listen carefully. "I'm not reportin' to Sue or anyone else, Johnny. Should've made it clearer- _I'm_ worried about ya, an' _I_ wanted ta know."

Johnny shrank almost visibly. Stupid. He shouldn't have allowed his emotions to get the better of him- even on that topic. "Sorry, Ben." He murmured. "I just… got kind of defensive there."

"S'okay, kiddo. It happens." They both took a sip from their respective drinks, and the uncomfortable moment seemed to have passed.

Both men walked out of the bar later with, if not a sense of peace, a renewed feeling of camaraderie.

The sun eventually fled New York. Shadows crept in slowly and eventually the moon rose to reign over her midnight kingdom. Oblivious to this all, the citizens continued wandering the streets, going about their nocturnal business.

And life went on.

--

In a gloomy corner, a large man sat confidently with his arms folded over his chest. His face was shrouded in darkness, all for the wide smirk on his pale skin. "Well, well, Mr. Storm… you've just made my day."

Murky green eyes flashed towards the man uncertainly. "And you're gonna pay me, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Your country thanks you, Mr. Leigh, for sharing this with them." In his left hand the man held a small, rectangular object. At first it appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary… but upon closer inspection, it was a clear plastic box.

Containing a single black cassette.

He chuckled under his breath. "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do…"

--

_**Sarah: Umm... the end!**_

_**Jackie: Sorry this chapt was short. And so late. I died last week and the resurrection spell takes lots of time to cast.**_

_**Sarah: Nerd.**_


	9. A Thousand Miles

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: I don't think we've been saying this enough, but thank you all so much for your reviews. We are TRYING so hard to get back into the swing of responding to each individual review, but it's harder than you think- you guys are really smart and we can't respond to a lot of questions!**_

_**Sarah: So, ya. Many thankz and apologiez. Anyways, here it is… Spontaneous Combustion of the Light Deficient variety!**_

_**Jackie: Classy.**_

--

Chapter Nine

--

_It's always times like these when I think of you,  
And I wonder if you ever think of me.  
'Cause everything's so wrong, and I don't belong,  
Living in your precious memory._

_'Cause I need you, and I miss you, and now I wonder…  
If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by?  
'Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles if I could just see you…  
Tonight._

_-Vanessa Carlton, A Thousand Miles_

Johnny spent that entire night pacing a hole in his bedroom floor, wracking his brain with worry and trying to figure out something, anything that could help him in this new situation. But by the time the sky began to lighten, he still hadn't figured anything out. Sinking down onto his bed in sheer exhaustion, he made a half-hearted attempt to rub the ache out of his legs, but by then his arms had betrayed him. Darkness soon followed.

--

A few short hours later, he was awakened by a presence in his room. He had closed and locked his door earlier, so whoever it was intruding in a very sneaky manner. Though not sneaky enough to fool him.

Senses screaming danger, Johnny lay on his side absolutely still. Soft footsteps approached, then finally halted… right in front of him? At first he was confused... until his eyes, barely cracked open, caught sight of something very strange. Hovering about a foot in front of him was an almost unnoticeable tiny reddish blob, not half a centimetre in diameter. As he watched, it was moving closer, or rather, being moved closer to him.

He couldn't help but speak up then, so in an even voice he said, "Are you going to go visible now, or should I just keep pretending to be asleep?"

The blob lurched backwards suddenly, and an instant later Sue appeared. "That's not funny!" She said, flushing as Johnny snickered at her.

"I thought it was pretty good." He replied, sitting up and smoothing his hair with one hand. "Hey, Sue. Welcome home."

"Thanks..." She said, taking a step back and leaning against his dresser with a perplexed expression on her face. "How did you know I was there?"

Johnny's blue eyes twinkled mysteriously. At last, a truth he could reveal. "Well, if you really want to know... I think you should sit down for this." He took his sister's arm gently and sat her on the bed next to him, then examined her face carefully. He did not want to miss this expression for the world. "Alright, now go invisible."

She frowned slightly, but obliged him. As before, there was no trace of Sue left... but there was, however, a small reddish blob suspended in mid-air.

"Now look at your stomach."

Sue must have looked down at that, because a few short moments later a scream of joy came from the air she had previously occupied. Invisible arms suddenly threw themselves around Johnny's chest and tackled him to the bed, sending electric jolts of pain through his wounds, old and new.

"Ouch, Sue! That hurts!" He cried, but amusedly returned the hug as best he could.

Loud footsteps in the hallway signalled the arrival of Ben and Reed, the latter immensely worried. "Sue?" He demanded, looking around for his wife, for the source of the apparent danger.

Having been summoned, the Invisible Woman suddenly became visible again and leapt up from her position tackle-hugging Johnny to go and embrace her husband. "Reed, look!" She exclaimed excitedly, and this time it was only her midsection that disappeared.

For internationally renowned genius, it took a surprising amount of time before Reed's eyes widened in understanding. "Incredible..." He said in shock.

Ben, meanwhile, looked completely blank. "What's all the noise about?" He asked, scratching his head.

Leaning out of the hug and utterly beaming, Sue turned to him and said in a quivery voice, "I... I'm pregnant."

His great orange jaw dropped. "Wha- that little... thing is a kid?" He demanded, pointing at her stomach.

"This is incredible." Reed repeated. "Sue, you can turn your own body, your own cells invisible, but because this, ahem, 'kid' is not part of your body, it remains perceptible. Think of the advances this could give to medical research!"

She gave the man an obligatory swat on the shoulder and said exasperatedly, "Reed, this is our child you're talking about, not an experiment!"

The man coloured. "Right, sorry." He paused for a moment, and suddenly his face went blank. "This... this is our child." He said as if testing out the phrase, placing both hand on his wife's midsection. "I'm going to be a father?"

Sue nodded slowly, the joyful expression still etched on her face. "That's right."

Reed melted. Literally.

Right there in Johnny's room (after Mr. Fantastic managed to pull himself together), the Fantastic Four quickly drew some quick conclusions. Sue's pregnancy would need to be hidden for as long as possible, both for privacy and safety reasons. For now, she would have to remember to use a separate field of invisibility around her stomach in order that no one –reporter or villain- could learn the truth. Finally, sometime in the near future, she would have to take a leave of absence from crime fighting – perhaps staying with Alicia while the others took care of their city.

It was a joyous day in the Baxter Building... but unfortunately, Johnny knew from past experience that it could not last. Nothing good in his life ever did.

Later that day, when Reed and Sue had curled up on the couch together to watch some TV (thought they were watching each other more than the television) and Ben was taking an afternoon nap, the doorbell rang.

Not wanting to have to disturb the lovebirds, Johnny inconspicuously stood and made his way to what served as their front door and pulled it open.

And was nearly blinded by a dozen flash bulbs going off in his face at once.

"Johnny, is it true that you're planning on admitting yourself to a psych ward?"

"What about your extended stay in rehab?"

"Mr. Storm! How do you feel about Ms. Evans's accusations of abuse?"

"Can you address the rumours of a mental illness?"

"Why have you been hiding this from the public for all these years?"

"Johnny! What's your comment on Dr. Hessler's psychotic evaluation of you?"

"How is Ms. Lopez taking the news?"

Voices and noises and intense lights assaulted his senses and momentarily froze him like a deer in headlights... but then everything sped up all too quickly. His pulse pounding in his ears, Johnny literally fought the urge to flame on and scare them all away, but... he just couldn't do that. Still, he was utterly bewildered. How had they found out? Had he tipped his hand at some point in time? What else could go wrong now?

But there was no time to dwell on his own questions. He steeled himself the best he could, straightened up, and as his concerned family began to press in, the hero put on a neutral expression and said in an even voice, "I would again like to respectfully ask to be left alone. My and my family's personal lives have nothing to do with our current occupation." There, they wouldn't be able to misinterpret that, would they?

The cluster of reporters pushed forwards even further, but as he was not moving at all from his position holding the door, they could not get in. Some brave man in the back managed to make his voice heard over all the others and thrust a tape recorder as close to Johnny as he could get it, shouting, "Johnny! Rumour has it that you do all these death-defying heroics in order that you might injure yourself- what is your response?"

A muscle in Johnny's jaw tightened and his hands gradually balled themselves into fists. He desperately wanted to hit something, but that, too, could be drastically misinterpreted. So instead, he replied through gritted teeth, "My response is the same as last time's- no comment."

With that, he closed the door in their arrogant faces, then turned around and sighed heavily, as if a few more bricks had been added to the load he was already carrying.

Turned right into the waiting faces of his family. Not quite ready to deal with them, Johnny walked on by and sat down on the couch, resting his head in his hands.

The couch sank slightly as Sue sat down next to him. For a moment she was silent, sitting there and rubbing his arm gently. Finally, she spoke up. "That was very diplomatic, Johnny. I'm proud of you."

He sighed again, staring blankly at the carpet. "I just don't understand... how did they find out? Why are they so eager now all of a sudden?" He hadn't remembered the local news media being this... bloodthirsty.

She replied, "Well, you've always given them the interviews, quotes, and pictures they needed... but when you up and quit talking last time, it's like they need something from you or they won't be able to function."

"Like a crackhead goin' through withdrawal." Ben spoke up, a half-grin in his deep voice.

Johnny laughed weakly at that. Inwardly, however, he was still bewildered. How... how had they known? Sure, hospital records were public, but as far as he knew the media in his time never had dove into his past like this. Someone must have tipped them off. But who? And why? What had happened differently that would cause someone to want to go through all that trouble? He surely hadn't done anything to tip anyone off, had he?

...oh, sh-

Of all the idiotic, careless things to do. That conversation at the bar, just yesterday.

Someone had to have been listening in. But who? Who could have...?

Damien. That smile he'd given Johnny, the gleam in his eye, he'd seen it all before. It was the look of a man about to get a lot of money.

He groaned aloud and muttered, "Stupid!" under his breath angrily.

But then again, the bartender had always seemed to like him before. In such a short while, what had changed to make the make entirely sell him out? Was it money, or something more personal? And if one person's opinion of him could change so drastically, why not the rest of the city, if not the country? If not Doom?

This was more complicated than he had originally thought…

Across the room, the phone rang. Quiet footsteps leading away told him that Reed had risen to answer it, and Johnny listened in on the scientist's part of the phone call for no other reason but to distract himself.

"Yes?"

"No, he isn't."

"He's busy at the moment."

"I mean, he doesn't want to talk to you."

"No, I haven't asked, I just know."

"Because he doesn't need to be bothered right now!"

"No, you can't quote me on that!"

"Then you should have told me you were taking notes! Off the record, he doesn't want to talk to any reporters, at all. That's why he has told you, multiple times, he does not want to talk!"

"What he needs is to not be bothered. So please, just leave us alone!"

"No, we certainly haven't."

"Nothing."

"Yes."

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"Goodbye."

A frustrated sound and the click of a phone being returned to a cradle.

Johnny closed his eyes tiredly. Again, this was just the thing he was afraid would happen if he slipped up and stepped out of character in public- people would begin wondering why and eventually they would find out the truth. And if he had been transparent enough for the public to start wondering and look into his past, what was to keep Doom from finding out that he was from the future?

Had he already done it? After all, Ben's poison was not 'scheduled' to activate for years now, and yet the mastermind had gone ahead and started it. What would cause that sudden change of mind?

Had Johnny revealed himself already?

He heaved a sigh and shook his head, dejectedly.

He just didn't know.

--

The good thing about all the reporters that were now hounding Johnny was that they had no time to wonder about the team's sudden change in attitude towards Sue – treating her as though she were made of glass. They had no time for them to wonder about her trips to a private doctor's office, or anything of such importance.

They were so worried about the past that they had no time to worry about the present, or six and a half months into the future.

That was the only bright spot in all this, Johnny thought glumly as he ducked his head down and pushed his way through a throng of paparazzi towards the waiting Fantasticar. Several weeks had passed now, and the tabloids were still running story after story about his hidden background, contacting bitter old roommates, ex-girlfriends, and basically everyone in his life who had dirt to share.

Jessica was a veritable mine of 'information' for them, and she had taken the sob story of their breakup so far to accuse him of threatening to kill her if she left him – which was backed up by several 'witnesses.' The only reason she claimed she hadn't taken him to court was that because he had apparently bribed the judges to keep it all quiet.

Anyone who knew anything about him knew the stories were false, but the general public seemed to eat up and demand more. So the stories continued to run.

It was even beginning to interfere with his life as a superhero, for many of the people he saved did not want to be rescued by a psychotic maniac. Johnny was basically in what many would consider a living hell, but so long as he was able to watch over his family and keep his maddening questions at bay, he was actually feeling pretty good. Far better than previously, at any rate.

Except while trying to fight his way through the crowds of people demanding his blood. As he finally broke free of the mob, he was just about to the Fantasticar and his waiting team when he spotted her.

It was her heartbreakingly blue eyes that caught him first – half-amused, but at the same time sympathetic. Her hair was cut short, shorter then he remembered, and it curled up slightly at the ends. As she caught him staring at her, the edges of her lips quirked and she nodded to him courteously, but stepped back and away before he could approach.

His heart stopped and his breath caught in his throat. Was it... was it really her?

"Myra?"

--

**Sarah: The end! –cacklez-**

**Jackie: Until next time, folks. Read and review!**


	10. Bodies

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

--

_**Jackie: In this chappie, we're trying to get back to some of the least-touched on genres in this fic so far: humour and romance.**_

_**Sarah: And before you're all, 'Oh noez! Johnny/OC!', relax. Just read the darn thing- and I'll letcha know right now, SHE DOESN'T HAVE ICE POWERS! Or any powers, for that matter. –shifty eyes-**_

_**Jackie: Are we allowed to tell that yet?**_

_**Sarah: If we don't want to lose any readers, ya it is. –cringes-**_

_**Jackie: …anyways…. On with the show!**_

--

Chapter Ten

--

_Skin against skin – blood and bone.  
You're all by yourself, but you're not alone.  
You wanted in, and now you're here.  
Driven by hate – consumed by fear!  
Let the bodies hit the floor…_

_-Drowning Pool, Bodies_

She didn't seem to hear him, and the crowd of reporters was pressing in again. Pretty soon he had lost her in the sea of faces, to his dismay. Despite how hard he tried, how many people he shoved past, he could not find the slightest trace of the woman. She had utterly disappeared.

Crushed, Johnny finally headed back to the Fantasticar, wherein his concerned teammates waited. Sue said something, tried to ask him what was wrong, but he shrugged off her attempts at conversation and simply withdrew, staring at the far-off horizon, at the gathering stormclouds.

And remembered a time long ago, when he had done the same… with company.

_FLASH_

"_What's the matter, Johnny?" Myra asked gently, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek on his head._

_He shrugged sullenly, staring out the tiny window and stroking his short beard. "Storm's coming. It's going to rain soon." They both know what he meant- the fourteenth was coming around soon, and they would be going back into morning for their fallen very shortly. It put everyone in a mood before the Day even arrived, and Myra knew that Johnny was still in pain from the last fatality._

_She turned her face to the side and lightly bussed the top of his head, then said in a very forthright manner, "Johnny… you can fly. You of all people should know- even when the sky is filled with clouds, the sun is still shining. Just because you can't see it anymore doesn't mean it isn't there."_

_She was about to kiss him again when he suddenly looked up at her, causing her lips to fall on his. The woman let out a small noise of surprise, but not displeasure._

_As they broke apart, their eyes locked, and Johnny slowly smiled. "What would I do without you?"_

_FLASH_

He closed his eyes and tried to recall the scent of her vanilla and lavender perfume; the sensation of her lips on his; her skin - warm even to a pyrokinetic - against his. Something burned behind his eyes and Johnny discreetly wiped at his eyes. No fair, he thought childishly, March's Day had been more than a fortnight ago. He was supposed to be over this kind of behaviour.

He was supposed to be, but the memories drawn to the surface by that one small incident were so overpowering, so vivid and clear in his mind, it was almost as if he could step into them and be living in that glory once again.

If only…

Johnny mostly managed to hold himself together until they got home again, where, without a word, he retreated to his room again and sat with his back pressed against the door. His body shaking violently with the force of his suppressed sobs.

She was so close, but so far away. Even if he were ethically able to meet her again, he wasn't supposed to meet the woman for four more years.

And there was no doubt in his mind at this time- he couldn't allow her to suffer through all that. Not again.

--

Whether or not they showed it, the weeks that passed since Johnny had administered the antidote to Ben had wreaked an invisible toll on the two infected members of the household. Almost daily the younger member was spotting blackened patches of skin, and it was getting harder and harder to hide the scars from his bloodletting.

Ben had not yet revealed any weakness, but the gray patch on his back had been spreading at a steady pace and he had been acting slightly... off... lately. Johnny had even caught Reed staring curiously at their large orange friend once or twice, however, nothing had been brought up as of yet.

Due to the poison's later stages, the pair had never been able to fully consult on its side effects specifically to them; so he was not exactly sure what Ben was going through. Nonetheless, the worn, haggard look in the man's eyes spoke volumes of his torment. The other two members of the team, so caught up in the excitement of Sue's pregnancy and the distress of Johnny's exposure, never noticed and Ben never brought it up.

For the most part, those three were living in blissful ignorance.

Johnny, on the other hand, knew better. However bad this stage of the toxin was, it was simply that- one stage. There were three others coming and he would know exactly when they were to arrive.

This creation of Doom's was indeed one of his most ingenious. It was designed to give and continue to give false hope throughout all stages, until the end finally came.

The first stage, which was what Johnny and Ben were currently in, was the easiest to deal with. The dormant poison was replicating itself thousands of times over within their bodies, and spreading itself throughout every major system. This was done so that it might use its presence to fundamentally alter the body in order that it might be able to attack easier. Meanwhile, in one area, a build up of contaminated black blood cells would occur, causing the infamous dark patches of skin (or rock). The build ups would spread and spread until great spans of their flesh were covered, and finally the lot of it would break down and be released into the body's bloodstream to eventually replace the healthy red blood cells.

What Johnny was doing in his bloodletting was, essentially, breaking down the build ups early on and externally releasing the contaminated blood. Because the poison could not become powerful enough to attack the body before it was released, its progress was stopped for the time being and it had to attack on a different front. In this way Johnny was prolonging his time spent in the first stage and hopefully buying enough time to do all that was necessary before he himself succumbed to the toxin.

The second stage was more difficult, especially for him. The poison began to select parts of the brain, specifically those dealing with the senses and memory. The effect was that frequently they would experience sensory 'ghosts.' All of a sudden there might be a tingling or disjointed sensation feeling anywhere on the infected one's body, or they might hear, smell, or even taste something that wasn't there. Most disturbingly of all, because of the poison's influence in the hippocampus, memories long since past would suddenly come to light through one or more sense; delusions that felt absolutely real. The end of the second stage had always been marked by a rather violent delusion involving every sense, transitioning to the third stage usually through vomiting black blood and passing out.

The third stage was the worst. At this point the poison attacked the vital organs in full force, absolutely destroying everything. Eventually the poison spread to almost every system in the body, but it left the nervous system undamaged in order that they would be able to feel everything as the toxin progressed. During this stage the individual lost all bodily control, all coherence, as every nerve in their body was alive with a single message: pain. Seizures and fading in and out of consciousness were frequent. The stage lasted around a fortnight before all these symptoms, and all that came before, suddenly stopped. Before they passed into the fourth stage.

The fourth stage being a week-long coma... and then death.

They had not had the antidote at all in his timeline. Johnny's poison had been 'scheduled' to activate first, and the only reason he had survived it was because of his unique ability to burn out foreign agents in his bloodstream. This poison was far too powerful for him to get rid of so easily, but he was able to weaken it just enough that he lived.

Because of this, he was able to endure the poison, but at the same time, he would not be able to take the antidote – which did basically the same thing for the others (that is to say, weaken its effects to a bearable point). If he tried to take it, his already overactive immune system would blaze through it and leave no trace of its existence.

It would be a waste of time to try and save himself. But Ben...

Ben was important. Ben had a life to live. Ben had many things left to do... and what was Johnny to compare to that?

Said hero sighed and shook his head to break these thoughts. He was supposed to be training, not daydreaming.

In weeks gone by, Johnny's injuries had finally healed up. At his final visit to the doctor, the man had declared him fit (excluding his strange bruises and scars, which he attributed to the dangerous life of a hero) and finally eased Sue's incessant worrying about his health. Ironic, because this was about the time when she should have been worrying more than ever...

Anyways.

Also in weeks gone by, Johnny had managed to convince Reed to build the training room. It had specific machines that would allow the foursome to test the limits of their individual powers or fight robotic foes that have programmable levels of difficulty, but apart from that it was mainly just a large steel room with some computers and machinery around the outlying edges.

But that was more than enough.

Johnny had been taking refuge in this room since its creation in order that he might work his body into the state he had had it in the future. Certainly, he had been in very good shape before, but in comparison to the layer of solid muscle he was used to - the power, the endurance, the speed... he had a lot of work to do in order to reach that standard. That demanded him to always fight the highest level foe he was given, and to heck with the demands that he do otherwise.

Which was why he was back in the training room at three in the morning, staring down five identical robotic figures in a battle-ready position. Reed has designed them with smooth, virtually featureless silver faces and a simplistic metal body, but when Johnny looked at them he could only see a steely gray mask and forest green cloak.

He took a deep breath and opened eyes that blazed with all the fury of an inferno, yet held a deadly cold edge. Five Doombots. Five minutes.

Go.

He flamed on and darted towards the robots, leaving a fiery wake behind him. The center robot was the most prepared and leaped forwards with a lightning-fast punch, but as fast as it was, Johnny was faster. He ducked under the punch and drove his elbow into its side, then circling halfway behind it, brought the same elbow up to smash the robot in the back of the head. To finish it off, he completed the motion and used his other elbow to slam its 'face' into the ground.

Another one was on him almost as soon as he had finished with the first. It launched itself towards Johnny before he even had time to get up, but he was far from helpless. He dropped his chest almost to the ground and lifted his lower half into the air, catching the robot's head with his knees. Using its speed and momentum, Johnny pushed himself off the ground and flipped the both of them over in the air. Together they crashed to the ground, the robot taking the full brunt of the fall and sending sparks flying into the air. It looked pretty beat up, but to make certain it wasn't going to come after him, Johnny grabbed the bot's chin with one hand and crown with the other, then snapped its neck with practiced ease – and a particular vehemence.

The third and, shortly behind that, the fourth were on their way already. The first one Johnny dealt with by tripping with his lead foot and raising his opposite knee into the swiftly falling head. As it fell limp, he improvised a weapon by grabbing the figure by its legs and hurling it into its fast-approaching comrade. The two of them began flying backwards and Johnny jumped into the air after them, propelling himself with a slight burst of flame from his feet and quickly catching up. He began punching what would have been the life out of them, until his knuckles hit bare wire. At that point, both robots dropped to the floor as dead weight.

Hovering about seven feet above the ground, Johnny looked around to survey the damage he had caused. Three destroyed metal bodies, yes, and one that appeared to be attempting to get up again... but where was the fifth?

Suddenly, a flicker of black rippled across the surface of Johnny's blazing skin, and instantly his fire cut out. He fell to the floor, too shocked to catch his fall, just as a smooth silver face invaded his blurring vision and an impossibly powerful uppercut slammed into his solar plexus.

Dazed and winded, Johnny staggered backwards a few steps, taking several more blows – including a vicious right that split his lip and spilled vibrant crimson down his chin - before he regained his composure and began to block the attacks, to fight back. Eventually the devastating blows landed were again solely his.

Relying solely on his own speed and strength, Johnny let loose with a series of kicks to the abdomen, chest, neck, and head; he jumped over the robot, flipping in the air to grab its head with his hands and, like he'd done with the second one, slammed it into the ground with all his might.

By this time he knew the first robot was on its feet again and was preparing his final assault. The unsteady metal footsteps behind him became louder and louder, until finally when it was within striking distance he spun around and backfisted it to the floor. Almost eagerly he dove on top of the metal beast, pinning it to the ground with his knees and lashing out with all his strength, hurling punch after punch into its mocking blank face; his own eyes cold and merciless.

He was breathing heavily and bleeding from numerous lacerations, including his split lip, and he could almost hear the gears grinding in the robot's head as to how it could use this to its advantage, but that would never happen. Johnny was going to end it first.

That is, he thought he was.

A scream from the training room's doorway jerked him from his zen-like battle state, and when his head whipped towards the doorway, he was met with his sister's panic-stricken face.

"JOHNNY!! OH MY-"

He never got to hear the end of her exclamation, as all of a sudden a metal foot came flying out of nowhere and struck him heavily in the face, sending him spiralling into blissful unconsciousness.

--

_**Sarah: Again, dun dun dun!**_

_**Jackie: I'm not going to comment on that this time. T.T**_

_**Sarah: Not commenting is a comment. n.n**_


	11. Jumper

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure.

Disclaimer: See prior chapters.

Summary: See prior chapters.

--

_**Sarah: ONG! Eleventh chapter! We've come so far!**_

_**Jackie: Yeah, really. I just hope we can live up to the hype now!**_

_**Sarah: We have hype? ONG WE TOTALLY HAVE IT MADE!**_

_**Jackie: ...sure, let's go with that! –sweatdrop-**_

--

Chapter Ten

--

_The angry boy, a bit too insane,  
Icing over a secret pain -  
You know you don't belong…  
You're the first to fight;  
You're way too loud;  
You're the flash of light on a burial shroud -  
I know something's wrong…_

_-Third Eye Blind, Jumper_

Something cool and damp was brushing against the side of his face, and to his battered skin it felt delicious. He turned towards whatever it was and dazedly rested in its comfort before recalling the situation he had just been in.

Johnny's time-hardened blue eyes snapped open and he sat up with a start, ignoring the surge of throbbing pain and dizziness that came with the motion. He looked around warily and realized that he was in the small medical portion of Reed's lab, on one of the examination tables.

But something was off- the lab was dark and empty except for him. How had he gotten here from the training room?

The answer to that became apparent as Sue cleared her throat. She was clutching a damp cloth in one hand, and had an expression of anger and extreme anxiety on her face.

Oh, right.

"Uh, hi Sue." He said blankly, unable to come up with something more original in his near-concussed state. Stupid robots.

She frowned seriously and asked in a harsh tone, "What was that all about?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to do a little training." He replied honestly, shrugging and discovering with a wince that he had not been as careful with his previous acrobatics as he'd thought he had been.

Sue stepped up to him, glaring at him severely, than sighed. Her anger melted away to be replaced with relief, and she threw her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. "I was so worried about you! I-I walked in and saw you all bloody and bruised and..." A shudder wracked her entire body and she buried her face in his shoulder.

A sharp pang of guilt. "I'm sorry," He apologized automatically, wrapping his arms around her stiffly at first, but he finally relaxed and began rubbing her back slowly, comfortingly. The way a father would a crying child.

Finally the woman took a deep breath and looked up at him, the anxiety having faded slightly from her expression and amusement now shining in her azure eyes. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

Johnny paled and averted his eyes. "Y-Yeah. I guess."

She smiled gently and kissed him on the cheek in an affectionate way, then bid him goodnight before returning to her room with a veritable bounce in her step. Such a drastic change from before... well, he would just have to be thankful for pregnant women and their mood swings.

He sighed and looked down at himself and suddenly realised what Sue had meant when she'd called him bruised. In the half-conscious state he'd been in while deciding that trying to force sleep would be pointless, he had forgotten to put anything on besides his pyjama pants. Thus, all the scars and premature build-ups the poison had caused were clearly visible. However, because of the state she found him in, she must have assumed that the marks were fresh.

So, despite the fact that he'd been kicked in the head with a foot made of a titanium-based compound, Sue's sudden entrance was apparently been a blessing in disguise. It gave him an excuse to be bloody and battered.

But as he gingerly lifted a hand to steady his head, Johnny's monstrous headache was not the only thing ringing in his ears. He shook his head dejectedly and made his way back to his bedroom, not for sleep but for proper clothing. Staying in the Baxter Building would be a mistake; he needed to clear his head.

Pulling on a pair of loose jeans and a light jacket, Johnny took the stairs down to the main floor and headed out onto the street. The night was crisp and cold, and the sky above was dappled black and charcoal from the overhanging clouds. Amazingly, the streets were bare except for the occasional person; even the moon had refused to come out tonight.

Thus, the hero was left alone with his thoughts as he slowly walked down the streets of New York. Headed anywhere but home.

The city noises still echoed in the distance. Faint sirens and the sounds of rushing traffic, as well as the million or so indistinguishable voices – speaking, yet saying nothing - would never fade entirely from the background, but they were not what Johnny was listening to. Johnny was listening to the voices of long ago, memories stirred by one crucial sentence his sister had so unthinkingly muttered.

"_Oh, come on! I'm a grown man; I'm married now, I can make my own decisions! Stop trying to run my life!"_

"_This isn't about that at all! This is about safety, so for both of your sakes, you can't move out now!"_

"_I have_ super powers_! I can spontaneously burst into flame! I can protect her all on my own. And besides, we won't even be that far away!"_

"_No, you- you won't be – because you're not g-going!"_

"_You- You know what you're doing? You're being a hyperactive control freak! I'm leaving tonight, and that's final!"_

"_Johnny - stop! D-Don't walk away from me!"_

"_I'll do whatever I damn well please!"_

"_I-I hate this!"_

"_I hate _you_!"_

"_..."_

"_S-Susie? SUE!"_

That day, so long ago, was the day that he had triggered the third stage of Sue's toxin. They had been attempting to delay it for months on end, but on that day a heated argument had taken place. An argument that led to her demise.

The effects of the third stage meant that he had never even gotten to apologize for his rash words, that the last thing his sister ever heard him say was that he hated her.

In his heart of hearts, Johnny couldn't blame Doom for Sue's death. Because even though the poison was the method, he knew that he had killed his sister.

He blinked significantly and let out a breath that billowed out in front of him as a small, silvery cloud, turning a corner down a poorly lit side street.

Why, oh why was he constantly mourning the dead from his time? They all were alive– not as he knew them, but still alive. That should have been good enough.

But it apparently wasn't. He was just as haunted by them in the past as he had been in the future, the only difference being that here he was surrounded by living ghosts of his future friends and family. The guilt had followed him back in time; a crushing weight on his spirit just like it had been then.

Countless times, Johnny had actually approached Sue in order to apologize for his actions to her in the future – not to explain, but just to try and gain some sort of pardon. But each time he had been unable to follow through for one reason or another, each time he'd been left standing and staring hungrily at his sibling... trying to gain what would never be offered.

Forgiveness.

"Probably stupid to even try..." He murmured, eyes on his feet as they led him down another dark street.

It was at that point in time he heard the menacing click-click of the hammer of a gun being pulled back.

"Probably stupid to wander the New York streets at night." A low voice growled as a masked man stepped from the shadows, pistol in hand, mask covering his face. "Hand over your wallet. Fast."

Johnny groaned. "You've gotta be kidding me." Was the Human Torch about to be mugged on his own turf? How did that happen?

"Come on, man. Hand it over." The man sneered, not recognizing him because of the darkness.

He stared at the mugger straight-faced. "I'm kind of having a rough night tonight, so I'm going to turn around, walk away, and pretend this never happened. Okay?"

"No, not okay!" The larger man stepped forwards threateningly, causing Johnny to tense and ready himself for whatever came next. "If you don't hand it over in two seconds I'm gonna-"

Unfortunately Johnny never found out what the mugger was 'gonna' do, as all of a sudden an unseen force ripped the gun from the man's hand. He looked away in a mix of confusion and fear and was suddenly lifted off the ground and dangling twenty feet in the air, hanging upside-down from a street light.

Bound and gagged by a mesh of shining silver webbing.

And crouching on top of the light was none other than Spider-Man himself.

Johnny could almost see the grin beneath his mask as the wall crawler asked with a chuckle, "Doth mine eyes deceive me?" In one smooth motion Spider-Man leaped down and cocked his head to the side. "I go out to catch a baddie, and manage to save the fabulous Human Torch in the process."

Seeing that Spider-Man had the attacker taken care of, Johnny relaxed and shot back amusedly, "Yeah, must be your lucky night."

Living in and protecting the same city, it was no surprise that the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man ran into each other occasionally. As a matter of fact, shortly after they first formed Spider-Man came to them and asked to join the team – as long as he'd get a paycheck – but circumstances led to their refusal and ever since, they had functioned as separate groups. Despite this, they were on amiable terms and when they did clash, it was usually because one group needed the other's help.

Which was why a 'casual' meeting like this was rare, and a little odd.

Turning back to the shocked mugger, Spider-Man said casually, "No, no, don't mind us. Feel free to hang out for now; the cops will be by soon enough." He walked over and patted Johnny on the shoulder before saying merrily, "Come on, hothead. I've been wanting to talk to you for a little while."

A little surprised, but not upset, Johnny shrugged and followed as he was led up the fire escape of the nearest building. Neither super said much until they were on the edge of the roof, where they sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

"Is it true? What they're saying about you in all the papers?" Spider-Man finally asked quietly, crouching on the brick ledge. The mask hid the expression on his face, but caution and concern (as well as a bit of pity) were clearly evident in his muffled voice. "I know how the media works... some of the stuff they can come up with is pretty terrible, but..."

He waited a moment before replying. "Some of it is. The things they say I'm doing now is obvious bull. But the part about my past, yeah, it's true."

Spider-Man nodded. "That sucks."

"Makes me wish I could just put on a mask and escape for a while." He said with half a chuckle.

The other hero jabbed him in the ribs. "Not fair. Even with a mask, they come after you. There's no way to be safe from the media machine."

"True that. Though they're not all bad..." Johnny said cryptically, eyes glazed over as he immersed himself in memories long since passed. "But that's the thing about being a hero, I guess. Whether they like you or not, you don't get to pick the people you save."

The web slinger nodded pensively. "Yeah, really."

Johnny blinked, realizing what he had just said – that he'd just quoted the very man standing next to him. Time travel did strange things to you...

He sighed and glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. Well, if anyone would know how he felt, it was Spider-Man. At this point, they had far too much in common.

It was then that something strange came to mind. In the future, Spider-Man had been killed relatively quickly, and his true identity had come out only after his demise, when his shell-shocked aunt came to identify the body plastered all over the news. Who would have suspected mild-mannered Peter Parker was the infamous web-slinging superhero?

However, only after the funeral (paid for by Parker's boss and Spider-Man's biggest critic, one J. Jonah Jameson) did the remaining members of the Fantastic Four realize what a supporter they had lost. Spider-Man accomplished far more for the city than anyone could ever have guessed. And for all the time they had known him, they had never sought to develop any sort of serious alliance.

This was something Johnny would have to fix.

"Hey, Spider-Man – I'm out here anyways, what say I help you finish your rounds, then maybe buy you a cup of coffee?" He asked casually.

The vibrant red-and-blue mask easily hid the hero's expression, but Johnny didn't need to see his face to recognize his hesitance. "Well… alright then." Then, a sudden shift in attitude. "But only if you think you can keep up!" And with that, Spider-Man flipped off the rooftop and into the night.

Johnny made a contented noise. Kids these days, he mused, jumping off the rooftop and flaming on…with careful attention made not to burn through his clothing.

--

_**Jackie: Sorry for the short chapter, guys. Spring break was killer - but fun.**_

_**Sarah: O.O Sez you! I haven't done that much hard labour since... ever!**_

_**Jackie: Until next time, guys! Read and review!**_


	12. Inevitable

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure.

Disclaimer: See prior chapters.

Summary: See prior chapters.

--

_**Jackie: HEY THERE, READER! IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, WE JUST EDITED AND UPDATED THE ENTIRE FIC! YOU MAY WANT TO GO BACK AND REREAD SOME PARTS, BECAUSE WE JUST PUT IN THE 'DELETED SCENES!'**_

_**Sarah: DRAMATIC MUCH?**_

_**Jackie: YOU KNOW IT!**_

--

Chapter Twelve

--

_I wanna break every clock;  
The hands of time could never move again.  
We could stay in this moment (stay in this moment),  
For the rest of our lives.  
Is it over now, hey, hey, is it over now?_

_I wanna be your last, first kiss,  
That you'll ever have.  
I wanna be your last first kiss…_

_-Anberlin, Inevitable_

When he finally returned from a night of gallivanting about the roofs of New York with his fellow outcast superhero, the despair that had formed a crushing weight in his chest had eased slightly, and the pair were well on their way to forming a fast friendship. Calmly, almost serenely Johnny made his way back into the Fantastic Four's upstairs apartment just as the sun was cautiously peeking its magnificent golden head above the horizon.

Most of the bedroom doors remained closed at this point, but soft noises and the occasional hushed voice denoted the stirrings within.

In the past, Reed had regularly been the first one up, rising shortly after the sun if he had not stayed up too late working on an experiment. Sue usually was the next to rise, as she was not content with slumbering on while her husband was already hard at work. Years of military training had Ben waking, like clockwork, at eight o'clock to prepare for another day doing whatever it was the Thing did. Finally, the Johnny of the past would drag himself out of bed sometime between ten and noon depending on how wild the party he had attended the previous night had been.

But things had changed significantly after the future Johnny had come into the picture.

Sue took the position of being the first up, and the day was considered not officially started until she had dashed to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach loudly and rather violently into her one source of comfort, the toilet. Reed still rose with the sun when he could, but if the time traveller had drugged him in order to perform his continuing tests he would be up sometime around nine o'clock or later. Ben was waking increasingly later as time passed, simply as his body needed all the rest it could take.

And Johnny... Johnny was completely unpredictable.

Generally he got an average of three to four hours of fitful sleep a night, though depending on how stressful the day was, he might decide that he didn't want to take his chances with the nightmares and not go to sleep at all. Then again, as he couldn't keep this up all the time every few days he would crash and pass out for around twelve hours or more and then wake up in either a state of lethargic despair or a violent frenzy.

It was safe to say that Johnny was the first awake, but since he did not want to disturb his family (in several ways) he usually remained in his room until Sue or one of the others showed signs of rousing.

And as the others were slowly coming around, he was free to move about.

Thus, he grabbed a fresh change of clothing from his room and headed to the bathroom. The fan was on when he got there, but he could still faintly smell the bile in the air.

He sighed. Sue was up, then.

With that Johnny stripped and stepped into the shower, turning the scalding hot water on full blast. He took a deep soothing breath as steam quickly filled the small enclosure, then examined his battered frame. A dazzling array of scars met his gaze, but they were no worse than last time. None of them were threatening to re-open; none appeared in need of bandages. And surprisingly, none of the darkened build-ups beneath his skin required attention. For once he would not have to start the day off by bloodletting, which was fortunate because Johnny was in what was (for him) a good mood, and he did not want to ruin it.

So the man proceeded with his normal cleansing practices, using naught but a bar of soap and a washcloth to remove the muck and grime accumulated by a night of crimefighting in the shadier parts of New York. He exited the stall feeling slightly refreshed, and with a subtle flare of his powers, he was dry again.

After dressing, he advanced towards the mirror. Johnny examined his face in detail and discovered that he had forgotten to shave the previous day and a good deal of stubble was darkening the lower half of his face.

Shaving in itself, usually such a normal practice, was a very strange habit to pick up again. Years and years ago (ahead?) he'd started to grow out his facial hair, and in semi-recent years he had abandoned it entirely. The result, of course, was a surprisingly thick beard that Myra had absolutely detested and had actually attempted to cut it off in the night – several times, in fact.

He gave a humourless chuckle at that memory and for her sake, took up the tools required to remove his facial fuzz.

Minutes later he stepped out; clean, shaven, and rather calm for being a traumatized, depressed, paranoid insomniac. Suddenly, something strange caught his ear and Johnny followed a tense voice and several loud banging sounds into the kitchen...

...and it was only his battle-forged reflexes that kept him from receiving a frying pan in the face.

Swiftly he dodged to the side and pressed up against the wall as the heavy metal object continued on its flight through the air before noisily crashing to the ground. Confused and alarmed, Johnny looked onwards to see what was going on.

Across the room, Reed and Sue were apparently having an argument; which Reed was either winning spectacularly or had said something profoundly stupid in, as Sue had been reduced to hurling whatever she could get her hands on at the bewildered scientist.

"Whoa! Time out! What's going on," Johnny started, then quickly ducked to avoid being hit by a wooden spoon, and continued, "and why are you taking it out on the dishware?"

Reed nodded to acknowledge his presence and replied, "I'm not entirely certain... we were discussing her condition and its effects on the team, and all of a sudden Sue started throwing things." As he finished the lid of a large pot came flying towards him, followed by the pot itself. The scientist stretched his body out of the way of both before he finally turned and looked at Johnny exasperatedly.

However, if he had been seeking comfort from the fiery hero, he was sadly disappointed. Johnny barked out a laugh and said amusedly, "You tried to tell her she couldn't help anymore, didn't you?"

Halting in his tracks, Reed started to ask, "How did you-" but was cut off as a particularly well-aimed chopping block collided with his head and he dropped like a rock.

At that point Johnny decided this had gone on far enough and carefully approached his sister, saying in an even voice, "Susie, relax! You've got a few more months before you even have to think about dropping out of the hero business. We'll talk later - for now, can we call a ceasefire?"

She huffed and folded her arms over her chest angrily, but set down the large cleaver she'd just managed to set her hands on and stalked out of the room... presumably to go bother Ben.

"Good enough..." Johnny mumbled, looking about at the mess in the kitchen and making a firm decision never to get Sue, especially pregnant Sue, mad.

A low groan floated up from the ground to reach his ears. Reed, who'd collapsed in a heap when the heavy wooden object made impact, was sporting a spectacular goose-egg on his forehead and appeared a little dazed, but other than that seemed to be fine.

Johnny crouched down beside the man and chuckled again. "Just be glad she never followed that up with that last one."

Gingerly the scientist lifted a hand to his forehead and winced as his fingers accidentally brushed the large bump. He sat up and leaned against the wall with a sigh. "Thanks, Johnny." He said half-sarcastically, but there was a note of sincerity in his voice.

"No problem!" He replied lightly, sitting down and absent-mindedly picking up the chopping block. No blood on the corners, that was good. Dealing with a minor head injury would be headache enough (excuse the pun); there was no need for it to be worse.

For a moment there was an amiable silence as Reed attempted to collect himself. Finally, he spoke up again, not even bothering to hide his slight confusion. "Like I tried to say earlier, how did you know that that was what I'd, err, suggested to Sue?"

He shook his head bemusedly in order to overcome the wave of anxiety that swept through his insides. Johnny had to be more careful with revealing what he already knew, or he would start people poking their noses in places they didn't belong. "It wasn't that hard of a guess. You never really were that great with words, you know."

Reed frowned and scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not, aren't I?"

"Just get her some chocolate and she'll be fine in a little bit." Johnny suggested, not entirely joking. "The joys of pregnancy!"

The other man laughed aloud, then winced again and his hand flew to cradle his forehead. Faintly, Johnny caught the scent of copper in the air and frowned. "Are you, ahh, are you okay?" Curious...

Removing his hand from his perfectly unmarked –aside from the obvious- head and staring at Johnny blankly, Reed returned his frown. "It's just a bump, Johnny. I'll be fine."

"Right. Gotcha." He replied, standing up slowly. Curiouser and curiouser... If he was fine, then what was the source of the odour? Even now it was beginning to fade, but that didn't change the fact that for a minute Johnny had clearly smelled blood. It was a hard thing for a person to mistake... especially for someone with as much experience with the substance as he.

He headed out of the room trying to puzzle it out when Ben finally made his entrance. He looked strong and refreshed, and was grinning spectacularly. "Mornin'!" He exclaimed, walking into the kitchen and freezing at the sight that awaited him. "Whoa, what happened here?"

Johnny looked to Reed exasperatedly. "You explain. I'm going to make some toast."

--

If it were possible, a sense of normalcy began to settle over the Baxter Building over the next few days. Johnny and Ben were apparently getting a break from the symptoms, which should have set the time traveller's mind at ease, but instead seemed to worry him even more. However, he was finally beginning to adjust, even to enjoy being in the past. His nightmares plagued him like never before, and the Day was approaching again... but... slowly, achingly slowly he was beginning to draw comfort from the fact that they were simply nightmares in this timeline... and nightmares always faded in the morning light.

Right?

Despite the gradual increase in Johnny's mental health, the media still seemed to take everything he did or tried to do and skewed it in order that he would seem psychotic. They never seemed to run out of ways to trash his reputation; and though many people knew the stories were false, many more began to believe the rumours.

Each morning, the papers would show daring headlines such as, "HUMAN TORCH 'SERIOUSLY DISTURBED,' SAYS CHILDHOOD DOCTOR," "NOT SO FANTASTIC ANYMORE, POLLS SHOW," "RAZOR STORM USED IN SUICIDE ATTEMPT SELLS FOR 8.2 MILLION," and, Johnny's personal favourite, "TORCH'S HOMICIDAL RAMPAGE IMMINANT."

The horrendous amount of negative media attention would have broken a weaker man, yet whenever Johnny picked up a paper he merely gave the slightest frown and shook his head sadly. As if he not only did not care for what they had to say, furthermore, he pitied those attempting to hurt him through all of this.

Generally speaking, Johnny didn't really seem affected by all the buzz about him... but one fateful evening, uncomfortably close to April's Day, one specific headline caught his eye and wouldn't let go.

DISGRACEFUL: NEW YORK REPORTERS A SHAME TO JOURNALISM.

Located on page E2.

Written by none other than Myra Jones.

Instantly he tore through the paper searching for page E2, heart racing a mile a minute. In the editorial section, at the top of the page with a quaint cartoon sitting next to it, was the article.

Unbelievable. She'd written a story about him this early in the game? She-she cared?

Johnny shook his head in disbelief. Simply unbelievable.

Yet... not necessarily impossible.

The way events had been running must have jump started her campaign against the more vulture-like reporters of the city. She always had been extremely proud and idealistic, almost to fault - but her caring nature overrode the negative aspects of those traits. Overall, Myra was simply an extraordinarily passionate person, which was one of her most endearing qualities.

But that was enough of that for now. For now, he wanted to read the article.

DISGRACEFUL: NEW YORK REPORTERS A SHAME TO JOURNALISM

The Fantastic Four, composed of ordinary people with not-so-ordinary abilities, have stood as New York City's unofficial guardians for more than two years now. In those years they have saved it (and, indeed, the world) from destruction countless times, asking nothing in return. The foursome risk their lives daily in order that the city might remain secure – however some of these citizen's have decided that these guardians are no longer worthy of protecting them. They have betrayed them, stabbed them in the back; only to have the team turn around and save them once again. The inexcusable behaviour of local and national journalists has come to this reporter's attention, and must be brought to an immediate and well-deserved end.

Are not journalists supposed to report the truth? These false reporters disgrace their titles by reporting only their own twisted interpretations of reality, dismissing fact and reason so that their own prejudices might be spread to all willing to listen. One can only fathom why, after so many have chosen to desert them, the Fantastic Four still chose to protect New York's ungrateful citizens...

Needless to say, the article went on extensively; explaining the difference between the freedom and responsibility of the press, specifically lashing out at several papers that had been particularly abusive of him, insinuating that many articles had basically been printed slander, and finally demanding that the reader reject the false opinions and embrace the truth. 'No matter the past, presently they are New York's heroes and guardians; guardians that this reporter continues to hold the utmost faith in.'

He set the paper down and swallowed heavily. Indeed, she had not lost her touch.

Johnny was trying to contemplate how someone who was technically a perfect stranger to him could simply care so much, when all of a sudden Sue walked into the kitchen, where he was sitting. She had a funny expression on her face, as if she was confused about something, while at the same time questioning why she was confused. "Johnny, there's a lady at the door for you. Some reporter. I know it's late, and I tried to send her away, but she keeps saying that she wants to 'preserve the truth' or something like that."

He froze inwardly. C-Could it be? "Did she give you a name?"

"Yeah, Mira I think. I could get rid of her, if you want." Sue frowned distastefully.

"No!" He exclaimed, standing up all of a sudden and causing his chair to scoot backwards with an audible squeak.

Startled, Sue took a step backwards. "Alright then; like I said, she's at the door."

And though the rational part of his brain screamed at him not to go, Johnny found himself striding out of the room and into the entrance way.

Towards his missing half.

--

Sarah: Aww... Johnny's starting to be happy again!

Jackie: That's so cute. We'll have to ruin it –evilgrin-

Sarah: XD


End file.
